


Overgiving

by Absolute_Fool



Series: Two Old Friends, and Another. [1]
Category: Merrily We Roll Along - Sondheim/Furth
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Divorce, Drama, Drug Use, Friendship, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Original Character(s), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19462792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolute_Fool/pseuds/Absolute_Fool
Summary: Charley always felt like he ended up the best out of the three best friends, but as he's forced to confront his own struggles and flaws, he realizes maybe that's not the highest bar there is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> People tend to selectively remember the bad things.

It had been years since Charley felt good. He had felt happy. He had felt joy. But the act of feeling good requires time, and he hadn’t found the time. It would take years. Years of being happy. Happiness lasted for him about two days every two weeks. 

Out of the three, Mary, Frank and Charley, he’d ended up the best. His marriage had lasted 21 years. He had a nice apartment, 4 bedroom. The triplets shared what had been the master bedroom. The youngest got the tiny room that was supposed to be an office. Evelyn and Charley had separate rooms. They had long since stopped sleeping together.

 _Snoring_ . That’s what Charley had told her, back in ‘74, though they’d stopped sharing a bed in ‘67. _Your snoring keeps me up, Eva._ Evelyn didn’t snore. 

He was making good money off his writing, Evelyn was able to work part-time now. They were both home whenever the kids were. That had bothered him for a while. Charley had been-- though the term made him uncomfortable- a stay at home dad for most the kids' lives. He had been the one cooking and cleaning. He didn’t mind it. He liked taking care of the kids. He liked having something to do. He’d always had trouble keeping down a job. In 74, when there was a dip in the household income, he went through 6 jobs in the span of 8 months. He’d never been good with people. It wasn’t like the jobs of his 20s, he couldn’t keep those the same reasons though, they were jobs he enjoyed. But Charley would slip some weeks into pits of irritability and snap at a boss or coworker, and other weeks he’d sometimes just barely be able to think. 

_Unproductive. Easy to upset._ His name sparked interest in artistic directors, who’d scramble to bring him into their organizations. But Charley was _harsh_ , _not dependable,_ and _hard to work with._ So 3/6 of the jobs were just clerking. 35 and clerking. 35 and terrible at clerking not because the organizational duties were too much but because you snapped at your boss for no real reason. He had had experience doing it well, in his 20s, the only job he ever had that he quit and ad never wanted to return to it in his 30s. 

He’d be 40 soon. He was back to being a writer.

The kids were teenagers now, so Charley spent almost all his time alone. When the kids were younger he’d have to keep an ear out, an eye on the time. And when they were very little he’d be the one taking care of them and bringing them to the doctor. But now when they were at school, or piano lessons, or just out, he didn’t have to even think about them. They were responsible, they’d come home before curfew, they wouldn’t get in trouble. They didn’t even make much messes anymore. 

Some Days he’d cook meals for the family, he liked cooking but usually everyone sorta cooked their own things, and then around the time everyone was supposed to be home he’d get five calls.

_Dad, I’m staying over at Mike’s_

_Dad, I’m staying over at Nickie’s_

_Dad, I’m staying over at Jane’s_

_Dad, I’m staying over at Rachel’s_

_Charley I’ll be home late tonight. Work._

And Charley would just say an “O _kay, stay safe.”_ and put the food away. Charley didn't have friends. He did have friends, they just weren’t _friends_ . He would see them only when he had to. And Mary, he’d see Mary sometimes. The kids loved their Auntie Mary and she would pop by every once in a while and drag Charley out. _You’re boring, Charley. You’re too healthy to be this boring._ Charley never actively sought her out. She made him sad. He had tried, many times, to convince her to do something about the alcoholism, but she never did. She never would.

When the kids were young, Evelyn and Charley had made a deal. The deal was that Charley had friday nights and all of Sunday to himself. Charley had other times, but those were always his and couldn’t be scheduled over. She would take care of the kids, he’d go out and sit with Frank and Mary and talk. And now, the days that Charley had bartered for himself, Evelyn had to press him to leave the apartment on. _Take a walk or go visit Mary, sweety, please._ And to appease her, he’d go out and come back a few hours later to make it appear like he’d done something. He never did. There was no point.

It wasn’t like he didn’t leave. He saw his shrink twice a week. He was the shopper of the household. He had the occasional meeting with his agent. And occasional he’d join a protest, or meet with old buddies that had once been radical and now were just washed up. He had never really had the ability to connect with people, even his buddies were just people who thought the same as him. _Charley, would you help me write this letter to Carter about coup d'état in Argentina?_ And Charley would say _Of course! Did you know I have family in Argentina?_ And they’d just nod and hand him the letter because they didn’t care. Frank and Mary were different of course. 

Frank _was_ different. Charley’s shrink had told him to change his language like that.

He was so connected to them. _Mary_ could tell what he was thinking on a glance and Charley could do the same with her.

Charley often found himself sitting for the hours he was alone. He would occasionally write, but the fun of writing had faded recently and he hatedknowig he was writing solely to keep his income consistent. 

He knew the fun it would return eventually, it always did. It had lasted more than two weeks it usually did.

Evelyn had entered and was leaning on the wall, peering down at him. She had this ability to make Charley feel uncomfortable without doing anything. It was because she was smart. They’d signed up for each other's quirks when they got married.

“The kids are all out with friends tonight.” She said.

Charley nodded, “I know.” 

She crossed over and glanced at the stack of papers. 

“One act.” Charley said.

“Did you write it all today?” Evelyn said.

“Yea.” Charley said, “Just a draft.”

Evelyn sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. Charley didn’t want to be touched, that had been consistent in their relationship. Charley looked up at her. She had this furrowed brow, half concerned, half frustrated look on her face. 

“Why don’t you take me out tonight?” She said, “We haven’t gone out for a while.”

Evelyn found stuff like that frivolous, so did Charley.

“Where do you want me to bring you?” Charley said. 

Evelyn shifted her weight and sighed out, “Nevermind. Neither of us wants that.”

Mary had described them as: _fantastic and fun people alone, horribly boring together._

Charley nodded, “Alright.”

_Silence._

Evelyn reached over ran her hands through his hair.

_Silence._

_Evelyn ran her hands down Charley’s neck_

_Silence._

Charley felt nerves spike and he slammed his hands down on the table and stood up, “I have a headache.”

“Charley,” Evelyn said, “You hurt me a lot.”

“Eva-” Charley said.

“I am trying my best, Charley.” Evelyn said, “To help you through whatever this is. But, I can’t stand you just ignoring me and acting like I’m not your wife! It's been years, Charley.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Charley said.

“I don’t know, Charley.” She said, “I just can’t deal with _this_ anymore.”

“Evelyn, I am doing everything in my ability.” Charley said, “It's not personal. It never has been.”

“Then what is it?” Evelyn said.

Charley stepped back, “You know my boundaries. You know what I can give you. What do you want?”

“I…” She sighed again, “Charley, I want you to pack a bag for the night, and I want you to go to Mary’s, or a hotel.”

“Why?” Charley said.

“Because you are making me very unhappy, and I don’t want to say anything to you that’ll hurt you.”

During Frank’s divorce, tensions had risen and the two had argued in Frank’s apartment late one night. Charley had said a half off complaint about Evelyn, something about feeling alone around her. And Frank had gotten red in the face and yelled: _You got married younger than I did and you still have this- this- perfect relationship. It isn’t fair, Charley! It’s not fair that you get to be so damn happy all the time, not like you deserve it anymore than I do._ And then Frank had sat back down and crossed his arms and said a half hearted _I’m sorry._

_Perfect relationship._

Charley never even brought up Evelyn around him after that.

Charley hadn’t been to Mary’s apartment in a while. He didn’t like it. It was stuffed and full of papers and boxes and it needed to be cleaned and she rarely did. And he always felt like he was imposing himself on her whenever he was there. She really needed a pet or something, it was so empty and quiet.

“So she kicked you out?!” Mary laughed, handing him a drink which he gladly took.

“Only for tonight.” Charley said.

“Which will lead to the weekend which will lead to a week which will lead to another week and soon enough she’s serving you divorce papers and running off to Texas with your kids.”

Charley rolled his eyes, “I think she just wanted me to get out.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot that you never leave the house.” She said, sitting down next to him. 

“I do..” Charley said, “I.. Can I say something horrible?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, can you?”

“I hope you’re right.” Charley said, “Well, partially...”

“You _just want_ her to take the kids?” Mary said.

“No!” Charley said, “I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind if it was over.”

Mary sat back, lifting her head a bit and narrowing her eyes. She bit her lip then opened her mouth as if she was going to say something then shook her head.

“What?” Charley said.

“I don’t even know you.” Mary said, “Have we both changed this much?”

“I guess.” Charley said.

Right after Charley got married, one or two days, he found himself in Frank’s apartment, a mess of tears. _I shouldn’t of done it. I shouldn’t’ve, Frank. Why didn’t you stop me?_ And Frank had just cleared his throat and shot a look of angry-embarrassment to his roommate then patted Charley’s shoulder. _But you love her!_

 _Stupid son-of-a-bitch wanted you out of there, didn’t care about anything else. He was_ **_always_ ** _embarrassed by you._

“Well it makes me feel weird.” Mary said, “You should be absolutely distraught. She’s your wife.”

“She’s a friend..” Charley said.

“And you’ve never been left distraught about losing a friend before.” Mary said, then she put an arm around him and hugged him and continued, “Don’t let me upset you, I’m bitter and alone.”

_That makes two of us._

Mary was right about one thing, Evelyn would be serving divorce papers.

The two sat, quite a few weeks later, at the table. Charley had already signed them. The kids were in the other room, all laughing about something.

“How do we explain it to them?” Charley said.

“I don’t know.” She said.

“Do you want me to take the blame?” Charley said, “Kids are never good with nuance.”

“No, you don’t need to; the kids are smart and they’ll understand.” Evelyn said, “We’re emotionally disconnected- have you found a lawyer?”

Charley nodded, “But don’t worry you can have whatever you want. I know you’re not outrageous.”

Evelyn nodded, “I'm not angry at you.”

“I don’t know why you would be?” Charley said, “I’m not the way I am out of.. Malintent. You know that right?”

She nodded, “We might have to claim that for the court though.”

“I was emotionally neglectful of you because I..?” Charley said, “I don’t know how to frame that in anyway but me being who I am.”

“We’ll figure it out.” She said.

“I hope so.” Charley said.

“Kids, come here!” Evelyn called. 

Charley sat up and put on a smile as the kids entered in. 16, 16, 16, and 14.

Evelyn waved them in closer and they leaned up against the kitchen counter, watching over. Disinterested. Evelyn as always able to hit this cool and collected energy perfectly. There were no nerves, no one was dreading what she was going to say. Charley was.

“Your father and I are getting a divorce. That’s why he’s been living elsewhere. Not because he is working a new show.” She said.

 _Silence._ The Kringas kids had inherited that from Charley, the tendence to either freak out or go quiet. There was no in between. And Charley had inherited that from his mother. It didn’t skip a generation.

“Your mother and I have grown apart and though we’re not unhappy, we haven’t been in love for a very long time. You’re all old enough to know that it isn’t your fault, but we have stayed together solely for you and you’re also old enough now that we are comfortable divorcing.” Charley said, “Nothing’s gonna change except I won’t be living here.”

“That’s not true.” Evelyn said, “Some _things_ will change but you do not have to be worried or scared and you can just continue as it always has been.”

The kids were really rolling with the ‘calm’ thing, they nodded and then one at a time left back into the other room. The laughing resumed soon enough.

“They took that well.” Charley said.

“Did you want them to burst into tears and beg us not to?” Evelyn said.

“No” Charley said, “It's just not typical.”

“We raised them to be sensible.” Evelyn said, “If that’s not typical then that’s fine.”

“Eva-”

“Evelyn.”

“--Evelyn. I’m just saying that if I were them I’d be absolutely devastated.”

Evelyn stood up, “Well you’re oh so typical, Charley.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Evelyn shrugged and left the room, joining the kids. Charley tapped his fingers on the table. Nothing was ever good. Everything led to something else and it was usually bad. _You win a pulitzer, you divorce your wife_. 

In the early 70s, Charley and Frank had gone on a trip somewhere. He couldn’t recall it well.. Chicago? Yes, it was to visit Charley’s parents. Frank avoided his own father and spent the weekend appeasing the Kringas’. And back at their hotel, Charley was a little tipsy, or maybe just very tired or burnout from being around his family, and was sitting up next to Frank. And Frank said _Why don’t you wear a wedding band?_ And Charley laughed because he had just taken it off to sleep and said, on the subject, _You’re the reason I married her._ And Frank got real uncomfortable because Charley had brought it up before and asked _What do you mean, Charley?_ And charley said _I realized I was in love with you and you weren’t in love with me and I had to get over it._ Frank cleared his throat and asked about the ring again. The subject was never brought up again. Frank didn’t like talking about Evelyn. 

It was one sided love.

And up to a point it was definitely mutual attraction.

_Frank grabbing your arm and just holding it for a long moment._

Charley didn’t want to think about the implications.

_Frank rubbing your thigh under the table till you had whisper close an invitation to go home._

It would add another layer of context to the past and the present and the future. 

_The ceiling of the back of a friend of a friend's otherwise empty car the week you turned 18._

Not like he could even talk to anyone about it.

_You got what was coming for you, Charley._

Charley didn’t want to be home. This was his new home. A tiny little apartment that Charley had yet to decorate. It was so dark and dull and the lights were like hospital lights. It made everything bluish and cool and sickly. It made him think of his childhood. He was a sickly kid. Up until he was 13 he was homeschooled because of it. For about half a year, Frank was the only kid his age he knew. The lights made him lonely.

There was a single window, almost exactly across from the door, and it was small and didn't really light up the room during the day but it was also just big enough that it could be opened and could fall, not really jump, out of it. He hadn't gotten around to putting curtains up

The only photos he had of the kids were the ones in his wallet. There was nothing on the walls. He hadn’t found the time to get a couch so he was sitting on a folding chair which was uncomfortable but he didn’t want to sleep. 

Anger was rising, he could feel his skin heating up and he took his glasses off to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. It wasn’t fair.

Mary had said that Frank was getting divorced too. She’d come home from a trip on Frank’s dollar to L.A., saying that it was all over. Everything. She was no longer frank’s friend. She hated his guts as much as Charley did. So did everyone else apparently. 

Charley didn’t say it but he did not hate Frank.

He wished he had his number. He wanted to yell at him, or cry and ask for sympathy because _I supported you through your divorce why aren’t you here for me?!_ And Charley knew that he wouldn't answer even if Charley could call him and even if he did he’d probably hang up once he heard charley’s voice or maybe if he was really lucky Frank would answer and he’d say _Because you deserve it._

Frank had never been there for him. Ever. Charley could beg him for support and it would always be either non-existent or half-assed! He shouldn’t even miss him. He shouldn’t of spiraled when he left because he didn’t need him in the first place because Frank did nothing for him. Frank barely even cared. There was no emotional attachment. Maybe no one could emotionally attach to Charley. It would explain why the divorce was so easy for EVERYONE but him. It made sense. It was a _reasonable_ explanation. Charley was atypical all along.

And he could talk to Mary, call her up and beg for her reassurance that he was going to be good soon but that wouldn’t be fair to her. Because she needed Charley more than he needed her and Charley couldn’t deal with _that_ tonight.

Charley couldn't even seem to deal with himself tonight. He was awake and it was late and he had a headache and hadn’t even thought about taking an aspirin. He had frozen up, like he always did, except this time he wasn’t freezing up because Gussie or Beth or Frank, it was because of Charley. Charley had put _himself_ in this situation and there was no way out.

There was a knock on the door and Charley had to stand and had to get to the door and open it a crack, not all the way, and peer out. He thought for a moment that he had finally lost it or that his vision has suddenly gotten a lot worse, because the person at the door was someone who shouldn’t be there.

It was Frank.

_Pathetic. You said you never wanted to see me again but here you are. I knew you'd come back. I knew that this was one long, long, game for you._

There was an air of desperation to him. Eyes wide and puffy and underdressed and with a bag over his shoulder. The hand that he knocked with was still up at the door, five centimeters away.

Charley had to stare at him for a moment. He almost reached out and touched him. He did not.

And Charley thought for a moment that he wouldn't have anything to say except he did.

"How are you here?"

Which didn't make sense so Charley interrupted Frank before he could talk.

"Franklin Shepard. Frank Shepard. Wow, I never thought I'd see you here. I thought you didn't want to see _me_ again. But no, you're back. You shouldn't be back, because you told _me_ that you didn't want to see me again. So what do you want? So what do you have to say to me- wait can I catch you up first? Do you want to know about my life? Or what about you just leave because I don't know why you're here and I don't even know if you are really here and I don't know if I should even be talking to you because I have put so much effort into not thinking about you and-"

Charley went to close the door and Frank blocked it with his foot and then placed his hand on the door and shot that sympathetic look down at him.

"Charley, you are my last chance." He said.

Charley reached over, unlocked the chain-lock, and opened the door fully. He flicked the lights on and let him in. He had aged well, better than Charley had. He was very.. fit. He was disheveled. He smelled like rain. _What was the word for it? Petrichor._ His hair, dyed the slightly artificial brown with the tiniest bit of grey breaking through, was catching the light, greasy. Charley shut the door after him. 

He didn't really walk that far in. Just barely away from Charley, face twisted into something that reminded him of how it felt to hold back years and glancing around the room.

"My life is over." Frank said, rolling his sleeves up. 

Charley nodded.

"Mary is gone and Gussie is gone and everyone left and I realized that all I have is you and I need to see you." Frank said.

Charley nodded.

"Because I cut _you_ off, not the other way around." He said, staring Charley down, "So _we_ can talk. I have you still."

Charley nodded.

"and- and- what you did was so horrible but I _forgive_ you, Charley, I do. I really do. I just want to be friends again Charley. I don't have any choice but to forgive you." He said.

"Okay..." Charley said.

"And I came back just for you." Frank said, "Because you've always had my back."

Frank reached out and touched Charley's shoulder then took a step closer and threw his arms around him. Charley put his arms around him too. 

"Why are you the only one I can trust?" He said, "Why are you the only one who never leaves?"

Charley wasn't sure if Frank was looking for answers. He was so warm, slightly sweaty. And Frank was bigger than Charley by quite a bit, six inches in height and two inches in build, so it was overwhelming and Charley couldn't breath. The petrichor had stopped being charming and was more making his head pound.

"I have put EVERYTHING in it." He said, "In all these people, I'd do anything for them and they wouldn't do anything for me. They just leave."

Charley nodded, "I'm sorry."

Charley struggled free and sorta pushed past him, rubbing his hands together, "Why don't we talk?"

Frank nodded, "That's all I want."

Charley and Frank sat in the only chairs in the room. A folding chair and one taken from Charley's desk. Frank kept glancing around the room, narrowing his eyes and then stopping what he was saying like he was going to comment on jt and then continuing. _Gussie_ . All he talked about was Gussie. Gussie had left. Gussie had figured out he was- _and I know it's not a good thing to do but you have to see it from my point of view, Charley-_ cheating. Gussie had threatened Everything. Gussie had taken their friends with her out to the countryside. And Mary had said they were no longer friends so Frank had been left, for once in his life, with absolutely no one. Frank couldn't reach out to anyone, he was alone. Except for Charley. Charley was always there. Charley was always there for him. So Frank put away any bitterness out of desperation and took a flight to New York and went to Evelyn and she sent him here to see him. 

"Charley, you're my last-ditch effort." Frank said. 

_Last ditch effort_.

Charley nodded, "What do you want.. From me?"

"I just want your support." Frank said, "Like you always give me. The past 6 years have been so hard, without you. I couldn't depend on anyone to be there for me. You always give it to me when I need it and I need it."

_You have to help him._

Charley always believed that you reaped what you sowed. And Charley would sow and sow and sow because of that. He had spent years sowing for Frank. Being there at the snap of a finger, being the one he confided his most horrible confessions in. Even back in their childhood, Charley would do anything for him, he got in fights for Frank. And Charley always believed deep down that eventually he might be given back what he gave. When Frank left that went out the door but now that he was back there was a chance at it. There was a chance for a sliver of it. Charley was a bank, letting people withdraw and withdraw as much as they needed but lacking in deposits.

_What? Are you helping him just so he helps you? Isn't that just manipulative?_

_Maybe you're being exploited._

_You have to help him._

What did Charley say? Years ago, staring into a camera. _I don't know who I am_

_You need to help him._

"I'll give you whatever you need, Frank." Charley said, a well rehearsed line, "You will always be my best friend."

_Teeth-melting._

It felt fake. 

Frank nodded, "I know, man, I know. Thank you for listening to me. You didn't have to."

Charley nodded.

Frank wiped his eyes and put on that smile that meant he was trying to figure out how to talk about himself more without it feeling overbearing.

Evelyn had once slammed a plate down into the sink, looked at Charley and screamed (almost in tears) _Frank is a narcissist, Charley!_

"I haven't had time to decorate." Charley said.

"Is this just where you write?" Frank said.

Charley nodded, "Yeah.."

"It's the size of my office." He laughed, sitting back and glancing around the room.

_If you don't say it now you will never say it again. Give him a chance._

"I'm lying!" Charley said, "I live here. I'm getting divorced." 

Frank looked like he was going to say something again then Charley spoke.

"And I wanted to call you so bad and cry because I haven't felt connected to someone, anyone, in a decade, Frank. Not even my own kids, Frank. My kids and I are on different sides of a cinder block wall and Mary and I are hardly friends anymore, Frank. Mary and I try but she's so far gone and I'm so far out, it's like I'm someone completely different and somewhere completely else, Frank. And Eva and I haven't had sex in 14 years, Frank. I can't bring myself to touch her because it's one step so far, I already do too much and that's just too much more work, and she thinks it's because I'm unwell, which is true, I see my shrink twice a week because of it but also because looking at her is like looking at a person on a television screen, not really there, Frank. And I guess she felt like I was the one who wasn't there, Frank. I did _Everything_ for her, Frank. I was about going mad to make sure she was happy and healthy and stress-free, Frank. I did all I could to make her happy and she calls me emotionally neglectful, Frank, _emotionally neglectful_. I'm all out of the ability to give, Frank! And Mary too, as much as I love her, I know she thinks I'm the reason we've grown apart and I am because look at me! I'm not making the effort to help her, Frank. I have no friends and no family, Frank. And it's so selfish, Frank! I give everything away because I want to have friends and family and it still slips out from under me, Frank. There's nothing more I can do, Frank, I'm so tired."

Frank just stared at him.

"I just want to be the one with a support system." Charley said, "For once."

Frank shifted in his seat, widening his eyes and glancing around the room. He was looking for something to change the subject to. There wasn't anything. Charley tapped his fingers on his leg, waiting. Frank stopped glancing around, stopped avoiding Charley's eyes, and looked right at him.

"Look at us," he said, smiling, "We're both bachelors and both in New York. It's like we're 18 again." 

"That's not a good thing." Charley said.

"Yes it is." Frank said, "Life was great before we were all tied down."

"No it wasn't, Frank." Charley said, "It wasn't good at all then."

"God, we were all so close back then." Frank said.

"All we did was write music and talk." Frank said.

"We were both confused and alone." Charley said.

Frank stood up and kneeled by Charley, putting a hand on his thigh "Let's restart, Charley, let's revert." 

"What are we reverting to?" Charley said.

"To what we were." He said.

"What were we then?" Charley said, "Perfect time for you to give me an answer." 

Frank went quiet again the said, "Come on, you can fly out to California with me. I have this pad in Paramount, we can be friends again. We can write another show."

"That isn't what I want." Charley said. 

He tilted his head, "Oh yeah..You don't like California- Make an exception, Charley, please, we can rekindle it."

"I can't make anymore exceptions!" Charley said.

Frank removed his hand from Charley's thigh, "Why are you doing this? I'm giving you the chance to be forgiven for all the garbage you put me through and you're just digging yourself in deeper. Let's not forget _exactly_ what you did to me, Charley."

"I can't forget what happened, Frank." Charley said, "I spend all my waking moments thinking about _what happened_ , Frank" 

"And what? You're not sorry?" Frank said.

"I called you every day for 3 months after it happened trying to explain to you how sorry I was, Frank. You ignored the calls." Charley said.

"And yet you won't even bend back just a little bit to help me. _That_ would be an apology Charley, not an 'I'm sorry' on repeat." Frank said, "I am being selfless, I don't want to be here, I never wanted to see you again, and now you're acting like you have any right to play the victim."

"So I have to be your yes man or I'm being terrible?!" Charley said.

"Don't put it like that." Frank said.

"How do I put it?" Charley said, "Frank, I don't know how you're asking me to frame this."

"All you have to do is to care about me." Frank said.

"I do care about you, you know I care about you, Frank." Charley stood up, "You have to know, even now."

"You don't seem to act like it." Frank said.

"Then why are you even here? Why am I your last-ditch effort at loyalty? What point is there, Frank?" Charley said, "Why don't you leave? You said you never wanted to talk to me again."

Frank stood up, "Charley-"

"I just poured myself out to you and you're- you're ignoring me." Charley said. "I want to be there for you, Frank, but at this moment _I_ need you. We can have each other but that means I need you too."

Frank cleared his throat, "My life is over, Charley."

"So is mine, Frank!" Charley said.

Frank sorta laughed "You are not _nearly_ angry enough for your divorce to be anything but mutual."

"And what was yours?" Charley said, "If you cheated on her you were unhappy- just like with-" Charley stopped himself before he could say anything he'd regret.

This was exactly what Charley wanted. He wanted to see Frank. He wanted to listen to Frank talk. And he was ruining it. 

"Frank, you're right all we have is each other." Charley said, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder, "Let's not fight." 

Frank nodded, "So will you go to Paramount with me?" 

There was only one answer that Charley could give. 

"I'll pack a bag." He said. 

Frank wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, "I knew you'd come through."

Charley always did.

Charley's psychiatrist had once called Charley a people-pleaser. Not negatively, just as a statement. Charley never saw himself as a people pleaser. Frank was, Frank was never true to himself. Frank would play whatever character he thought would make strangers like him. Charley didn't do _that_. He was Charley. He was always Charley. But he thought about it a lot. Maybe Charley was just inherently a people pleaser, but a different type. If he had a piece of paper he'd jot the subject down to remember. 

The two sat on Charley's bed, drinking out of unfitting glasses. When they were young they used to sit the same way and take shots of mouthwash, because alcohol was expensive, between writing music or complaining about whatever irked Frank. Occasionally Charley would get a complaint in, lying down and saying it too loudly toward the ceiling and Frank would laugh and lie down next to him.

"Frankie didn't invite me to his graduation." Frank said.

Charley frowned, "I'm sorry."

Charley had gone to Frankie's graduation.

"I must be the worst dad in the world." Frank said, "At least to him. I think it's real funny though. Compared to _my_ father? I could win awards. Kid's got no idea how good his life is."

Charley nodded, "The youth never do."

"Gee, Charley, I never hit him. Not even once." Frank said, "Ever. And how he acts? I wish I did."

"No you don't." Charley said, "Come on, Frank, I'm sure he ended up fine the way he did."

Frank sighed and lied down, handing Charley his glass. "I guess."

Charley placed the glass to the side and laid down next to him, "My son and I can't get along. He's so social and well liked. I embarrass him. The girls are different, they still see me as their dad."

Frank nodded, "It's all a phase."

"I know." Charley said 

"I sent Frankie a couple thousand as a graduation gift." Frank said. "He didn't even give me a thank you."

"I'm sorry." Charley said.

"I was gonna offer him a place to stay, I don't know if he's going to college or what, but because of what happened I can't do that anymore." Frank said, "Gussie doesn't want me around and she sure the hell doesn't want him around."

"Frank, How far are you into your divorce?" Charley said.

"We're separated." Frank said, "It's really complicated but a divorce is on the table."

"Eva and I agreed to make ours fast." Charley said.

"You and her aren't worth much." He said. "Custody of the kids will be the only thing that you'll argue over."

"she can have whatever she wants." Charley said, "You know Evelyn, you know she isn't spiteful."

"She will be." Frank said, "She'll run you into the ground." 

"I know she won't." Charley said.

"I thought the same about Beth, Charley." He said, rolling into his side and touching Charley's shoulder, "You need to prepare yourself for it, man." 

"Why are you here?" Charley said, "I mean on a wider scale."

"I told you. You are the only one left." He said.

"Why is that?" Charley said.

"Because you're you?"

"Why did I let you in?"

"Because you're my friend."

"it's been 9 years since I've even said it to you." Charley said, "Since I even acknowledged it. That's when I should've gotten divorced."

Frank blinked, "..I think Gussie was never in love with-"

"No one's got my back." Charley said, "You never did."

"That's not true!"

Charley rolled over and faced him, "I shouldn't be enabling you. You need to see a shrink and- _and_ you need to talk to your wife. You should be back in California, I shouldn't be wanting to talk to you. I shouldn't be wanting to be back in your life because you've made it very clear.

"Charley-"

"I'm sorry." Charley said, "But I think you need to go and get a hotel and fly home tomorrow. There is nothing for you here. I am, for once in my life, going to admit that I cannot do this today. I can't. I will feel bad no matter how we go about it."

Frank sat up, "Don't-"

"Please leave." Charley said, "For both of us." 

Frank got heated, face turning red and he sat up, pulling Charley up by his shirt collar, "So you're just like everyone else?" Frank's other hand was pressing down on Charley's knee to keep him from standing.

"Are you going to hit me?" Charley said.

Frank let go of him and stood up, "Fine. Fine, if you don't want me here. That's whatever. It makes sense."

Frank was halfway out the door before Charley could say anything.

"I love you." Charley said.

Frank closed the door. Frank was gone as quick as he was here. 


	2. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley brings the kids out to dinner, reflects on his own experiences with men and reflects on he and Frank's childhood.

Charley would sometimes type so much that he'd lose feelings in his hands. It had always been his call to stop and stretch or to go and get water or to check the time and make sure he wasn't forgetting to do the laundry. It was mental, or so he'd been told, not physical.  _ Mental _ . 

_ What qualifies things as mental? If I feel it physically then it's physical isn't it? Why don't you stop thinking about it? _

Charley's fingers were numb. He'd already finished what he  _ needed _ to finish. This was extra. This was just excess.

_ Excess. _

Gussie was excess. He'd described her that way. Back when he had been told by his shrink to keep a journal he'd written all sorts of things about her. Stuff about Frank too. Things he shouldn't of written. But he was nervous, that the kids would find it someday, that he'd die in some freak accident and Evelyn would read it or Frank himself would. He kept it in a box under lock and key, alongside other things that Charley could only ever get out in writing.

Those were the things that made him a bad husband.

He'd long since lost the key. 

He didn't want to stop writing this. Excess and all. This was Charley's confession. He'd save it for  _ after _ the divorce but Evelyn would be getting it as soon as he could. 

_ What is this even about? _

No words had been written.

"Charley--" Evelyn called.

She was at the door. Charley stood and buttoned his top button, opening the door.

She had the kids.

She stood there for a second then put a hand up to the kids telling them to wait and entered in, closing the door behind her. She did not turn the light on.

"I'm sorry, I forgot I was going to take them tonight." He said.

"I can tell." She said, she sighed, "I'll bring them to dinner, give you some time to prepare." She glanced around the room, "You don't have a couch..?" 

"I didn't say I had space for them to stay." Charley said. "I was going to bring them-"

"No- I know that. I mean-  _ Charley _ , this place is empty." She said, "You really want them to see you this way?"

Charley stepped back, "I'm sorry?"

"I don't understand it." She said, "You were- you have always been the one who has your shit together and this- Jesus Christ, Charley."

"What about tomorrow?" Charley said, "I'll come to you."

"They're going to be upset." Evelyn said, "They want to see their Dad."

"I'll make it up to them." Charley said.

She shook her head, "They know how you get." She turned to open the door.

"Wait." Charley said, "Give me 15 minutes. We can all go out to dinner together, I'll buy whatever the kids want."

Evelyn stopped, "Alright, Charley."

The family sat in a restaurant. Italian? Charley wasn't sure. The kids wanted it. Charley had ordered the first thing he saw on the menu. He tried to recall what it was. The menus had been taken. In his head the text on them was off-color, shaking. It wasn't text. He couldn't read it.

"And so he's got a car and everything..."

"I thought we weren't allowed to date!"

"mom--"

"Am I allowed to date? I'm a boy-"

"That's sexist!"

"I'm not dating him!"

"Dad, Dad can we date people? I don't think we ever discussed it?"

"If you two date other people can we?"

Charley looked up. That subject hadn't hit him yet. 

"Yes." Charley said, "I don't care if any of you have boyfriends-- or girlfriends-- just, keep it safe alright."

"And if you can't, don't." Evelyn said.

Charley barely recognized their faces, like individual features were out of focus but that the face in general was too clear. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his son looking up at him.

"Dad, are you going to write anything new?"

Charley grinned, "why do you want to know?"

"Because we read one of your plays in class." He said.

"Oh?" Charley said.

Evelyn laughed, "Must've been real awkward."

"One of the good ones?" Charley said, "I can't imagine they're very good for people your age, kiddo?"

"He-- Mr. Krazz -- wanted to know if you'd come in to talk to us." He said.

Charley adjusted, "You know I don't do stuff like that, kid."

" _ Please!"  _ He said, "I already promised him."

Charley smiled, "Okay. okay, maybe."

He smiled.

Evelyn took a sip of her water, "Mr. Krazz is the one who wrote us the letter, right?"

"What letter?" Charley said.

"Mr. Krazz wrote us a letter home yesterday." Evelyn said, " He was asking about how we encourage such good artistic growth in our kids. Asked if we'd call him to discuss- I have it in my bag--"

"Mr. Krazz was the best." 

"He still is!"

Charley frowned, "Get me that number, I'll call him tonight."

Evelyn smiled and took the letter out, sliding it across the table. Charley pressed it into his pocket.

Charley tried to call the number that night, after glancing over the letter. But while the letter made Charley proud, it also drained him. He knew exactly the type of person who wrote letters like this: washed out, bold, former writers.

He'd dealt with them before, as he stopped aligning with the theatre post-frank, and they were always the same. Brown or blonde dyed hair with greying roots, sitting too close, pretentious, drinking red wine and doing a toothy grin. Men that Charley wouldn't think about, that Charley would avoid looking at as they spoke. Charley had to be polite, he'd talk to them as much as he could. But he'd try to end this conversations as fast as he could too, they were too attentive. They were too sharp.

It was a ploy to get Charley to call. 

He'd do it tomorrow.

Men like "Mr. Krazz" would be the men that Charley would feel guilt over. They were the men that Charley couldn't relax by, couldn't let down his guard. They were men that wanted to talk about writing. Men that wanted to flatter him. They were like a more developed version of the men Charley had encountered, sitting alone waiting for Mary, who took a seat next to him and ordered him a drink and tried to start a conversation. Charley hadn't been the best at conversation. Except now they just presumed, talking to him post-conference, brushing the back of his arm as they passed by and inviting him to their office, where Charley and them would always sit and fail to connect because Charley's eyes would be glued on the door, waiting for a chance to duck out. And Charley would never get heated as they got too close, they could read him well, with their hand resting on his knee, he'd simply clear his throat and stand up, as if he wasn't aware exactly why he was brought in here and gone along anyways.

He had things that were too important for men like that. Temptation wasn't avoidable, but keeping it at that was.

And now? Charley could by all means give in, not stand up when Mr. Krazz (or whomever) put his hand on Charley's back as they sat in his dark and otherwise empty classroom at 4:30 or when he invited Charley to his den to discuss contemporary literature.

_ Frank _ .

That was the limitation here. Frank was the limitation. He hadn't heard from him, or of him, since he'd left. 3 days. And Charley was sure that he'd be back eventually, that he'd someday be at the door again. Fights never lasted that long. Charley's rejections didn't mean much. Frank's meant the world, but Charley's were minor. The slightest word, the lack of an answer, the millimeter's worth of a change in tone, those were Frank's rejections.

Frank's rejections were mellow. Frank's rejections were so clear. Frank's rejections could be felt when Charley got stressed. Memories on his skin, memories in his bones. He couldn't ever avoid feeling them, even when he tried to, they would be there when they wanted to be there. The strokes on his arms that if Charley returned the affection would be withdrawn, the burning glances from the piano as Charley sung for crowds of faceless people, the bruise on Charley's jaw up to his cheek after the interview. Those could hit him at any time they pleased.  _ Mentally. _

Confusion.

Confusion defined much of Charley's life. Frank had  _ always _ confused him.

_ Burnt out highschoolers, 16, curled up on the floor of your bedroom after a long night of studying Shakespeare for 4 hours straight, half-asleep, half-listening through the floor to your parents discuss how little you'd been talking lately. Frank putting his hand on your waist and pulling you close. _

Confusion.

_ Frank pulling you into a side room and kissing you three days before your wedding then leaving and not letting you get a word in.  _

_ Do you even deserve to remember those things?  _

_ I don't know. _

Charley always felt everything was worse when the kids were gone. Sadness could linger when he felt purposeless, which he did without the kids. When they were 1 and 3 respectively they'd spent 8 months at their maternal grandmother's house. It was a complicated situation. Charley and Evelyn both had issues of their own, feeding off each other. Evelyn was depressed, she had been after the birth of their son. She'd almost lost her job. Charley had to take extra responsibility, helping her the best he could, and the kids, and working with Frank. 

It was the only time Charley had ever been on  _ medication _ and it had triggered a day that led to half-an-arrest and half a week in a hospital. Evelyn lost her job, staying home with the kids while he was out of commission. Charley's writing wasn't enough to support everything, they got evicted. And when he got back _ he _ wasn't able to support everything. Charley was a nervous wreck,  _ trying _ to work part time AND taking care of the kids (Evelyn struggled with the little ones) AND working with Frank. 

Couples therapy from a friend convinced them to let Mrs. Garfield take the kids while everything got back on track. Without the kids, Charley was significantly less stressed, knowing they would always be safe and happy.

And yet, while some of the stress got lifted on his shoulders, not having the kids around made Charley feel worse. A mix of guilt of abandoning them and restlessness.

Without the kids, Evelyn and Charley struggled to get along. It was like without the kids they didn't have anything to keep them level. Charley and Evelyn screamed themselves hoarse, in a tiny studio apartment, every night. Usually it was about money, but sometimes Charley would imply he didn't trust her and Evelyn would imply that Charley didn't love her. And every night one of them would end up crying or going to stay with a friend because the other was  _ too intense _ .

When the fighting led to Charley leaving, he'd always end up in Mary's apartment, usually in tears anyways.  _ I love her, Mary, don't give me that look. _

Charley had brought up the concept of a divorce, right as they started getting back on their feet, as they were packing the studio, and mentioned leaving. And that made Evelyn fall into a fit of sobs, begging him to stay. It was surreal to see her that close and personal. The intimacy of crying had always made Charley so uncomfortable. Emotional collapse.  _ How is that not the most intimate thing there is? _ Charley cried often, it wasn't useful to himself but he always thought that it was useful to whoever he was around. Being uncomfortable was good sometimes.

_ Charley, you saw what their divorce did to their kids, why do you want that for our kids? _

And Charley stepped back and looked around at what he had, and then sat by her and agreed to not leave. For the kids. For her.

It wasn't that late, he still had time to call.  _ Mr. Krazz might still be interested in discussing _ . 

He called Mary. She didn't pick up.

He poured himself a drink.

He didn't drink it.

He almost called.

He did not.

Charley never enjoyed drinking, it was a social thing for him. He was a bit of a lightweight so when he did drink he'd either get completely sloshed or he'd have to be sipping on one drink for the entire night, practically sober. Before Mary had taken drinking (like caffeine and cigarettes) to an excess, the two would go out (with or without Frank) and the nights would end with Charley either getting in a fight, Charley having to walk Mary up to her apartment (or vice versa), or Charley simply ending up sick. 

When Charley was a teenager, at the very tell end of highschool, Frank and him snuck out to some party with a few of Frank's friends, and they'd all gotten Charley more drunk than he ever had been before or again. Frank's friends  _ loved _ messing with Charley even more so than the usual classmates.

While they forced Charley into a chair and made him drink, Frank just stood to the side, occasionally sayin _ g hey- hey don't do that- you're hurting him _ , watching. That type of misconduct wasn't very odd or out of the ordinary for Charley. He had discussed it with many a psychiatrist. He was  _ too trusting _ . He was  _ too naive.  _ He was  _ too easy  _ to do it to. Frank was too trusting and too naive too, but charismatic and confident. Anything bad that they could figure out to do, they'd do. Frank only defended him when it went a little bit too far. 

They got tired of it pretty soon, whether they just bored or because Charley was flailing and gagging and trying to push them away, and Frank pulled Charley out of there the moment they were all gone. Charley couldn't recall it well, but he remembered Frank pushing him out a back door and giving him his coat. He wasn't sure if Frank had waited for so long to avoid looking bad in front of them, or if he was just afraid they were going to hurt him. Charley remembered bringing that question up to him, when they were 19 and Charley was upset over something else, and Frank (for once in his life) had aggressively apologized.

It was, in general, not a very good experience. Frank stopped hanging out with those guys after that.

Apparently though, even today, Frank thought it was a  _ little _ funny as he brought a nearly blacking out Charley home through the back alleys and Charley puked his guts up outside a pizza place, laughing  _ Charley, oh my gooood _ . They ended up going to Frank's place, which was closer, instead of Charley's, in through the window. 

Charley could vividly remember the next morning, getting a huge book flung at his head by Frank's father (Despite the convincing the Kringas Family to feed Frank and let his apparently burden son sleep at their house, Frank's father had a seething hatred for Charley.) and then getting home, trying to sneak in, just to be met by his very angry father and distant, confused mother. 

His father wasn't a mean person. His father was, in fact, the kindest, gentlest, most accepting man Charley'd ever met. Yet underwhelming. His mother was not well, a lot like Charley but a little more.. extreme. His father had stopped, by the time Charley's older brothers had all moved out, caring about her. She would be found a mess, whether just distant and far out or in tears or raging, on the sofa at any time of the day or night, and Dad would ignore her. 

But even his mother was a good woman, once you got past it all. She paid Frank, originally, to be Charley's friend. It was all under the table and Dad stepped in to stop it and Frank stayed. She was long since sane, Charley being the one thing that kept her from being thrown away into the care of doctors. Dad wanted to make sure the youngest, 9 years youngest from his youngest sibling, had a mother still. That was the good thing about Charley being the way he was, even though once he could feed himself Dad would have thrown mom away, Charley being sickly kept her nearby. Just in case. And by his adulthood, therapies had changed and Dad had changed his mind.  _ Mom was always grateful for you. _

His parents were usually not aggressive people, but they were then. Charley, already feeling sick and uncomfortable, had never heard them that angry. And when Mom finally caught up with what had happened, she turned red faced and screamed at him, _Charley tiene la cara rota!_ Charley eventually went up the rickety stairs up to his room and typed up a long apology. It had been over 3 hours straight of occasionally tearful typing when his father entered in and handed him a glass of water. His dad was strange. Dr. Kringas, head of psychiatry at some local hospital. And he said _Charles,_ (Charley had been Charley for a while but Charley's insistence of _Charley_ instead of Charlie made his Dad nervous) ( _Your name is not Charlotte, Charles)_ _I think that Frank is a bad influence_.

And that made Charley fly into a fit of tears and rage, asking, nay-  _ begging _ \- him not to take away the one friend he had and his dad sorta stepped back and nodded, reaching over and reading a paragraph of the apology before leaving.

Charley didn't know what happened to Frank that morning.

He didn't see him for a week after that.

He probably got a real bad beating.

Charley still didn't like drinking very much. He wasn't sure why he poured himself the glass. It's why he needed Mary around, to fix mistakes like this. He attempted to pour it back into the bottle, half of it pouring all over the table, then dumped the rest down the sink and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was a lot more intense but I had to tone it down for my soul's sake lol :(
> 
> As you can tell, Charley has like the MOST healthy relationships with his own emotions! No one on earth has ever been so chill with their emotions. Nope. Never.
> 
> Charley's medication induced breakdown will probably be expanded upon if I can remember to do so.
> 
> If you've gotten this far without getting it, Frank and Charley's relationship was never the healthiest, nor would it be. Whoops.


	3. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley shows Mary some of his new play and comes head to head with some older.. less fictional writing of his.

"You do realize this is completely incoherent?" Mary said, sitting across from him reading the third draft of the  _ confession _ . 

She hadn't been doing well lately. Drinking more, not answering her phone. she was wearing clothing that was wrinkled severely, like It'd been bunched up and tightly packed into a ball for a few months. Her hair was a mess, too long and frizzy.

Her reviews had been real good lately.

"No it's not." Charley said, taking a sip of water.

"It is, Charley." She said, "I don't know what absurdist bullshit you're trying to capture in this but this doesn't even fit into the realm of language."

Charley sat back in his chair. He'd partially decorated the apartment, still no sofa or lamps. He bit his lip and looked away from her.

"What part is incoherent?"

"All of it, Charley." She said.

"Give me one part." Charley said.

Mary shuffled the pages and found a random line, lifting her free hand up as she read, "Tim says 'earth, on anything loved even I And I more than loved my wife. else him' what does that mean, Charley?"

"That's not what it says!' Charley said.

Mary shuffled the pages again, "'A girl on arms. Him. fell loved the her when her cigarettes he to dig asleep into used' Were you dying when you wrote this?"

Charley snatched the papers back, "You're being a real asshole. This is very important to me."

"Did you look at it at all? When you were writing it? When you were done?" Mary said.

"Of course. " Charley said, glancing down.

"A girl on arms. Him. fell loved the her when her cigarettes he to dig asleep into used"

Charley froze, brushing his thumb across the text then looking back up at Mary.

"That isn't what I wrote." Charley said, "I write- I wrote- 'a girl he loved used to dig her cigarettes into my arms when I fell asleep on him at the drive-in and I'd wake up, and bite my lip as she did it, but pretend to be asleep.'"

Mary laughed, "God, Charley, lay off the alcohol."

"It doesn't-..." Charley stopped, " I swear I wrote that."

"Words sometimes get mixed up." Mary said then she stopped and smiled huge and then it turned into a smirk and she tapped her pen on the table, "Oh my god." 

"What?" Charley said.

"That line is ripped right from your childhood, right?" Mary said, "yeah- yeah you said, Frank's highschool sweetheart-"

Charley nodded, "Write what you know."

"Great way to apply it to a character." Mary said, "So is-  _ Tim _ supposed to be in love with Gil? I can't tell- That's gonna be real fucking- wow."

Charley nodded, "I'm no stranger to controversy."

Mary laughed, "Well, I'd say you gotta cut that line then."

Charley shook his head, "Why?"

"Because it implies- oh it implies all sorts of shit." Mary was almost crying from laughter.

Charley shifted, "I'll think about it."

She wiped tears from her eyes, "You have given me one more reason not to drink myself dead tonight-"

"-Mary!" Charley said.

"- Charley, I have to live to see this on stage. Like this. Go bring this, how it is, to one of the producers you're in bed with."

"No-" Charley said, "Mary, this  _ is _ going to be my best work."

"If you pitch it well enough in its current state, it doesn't matter how actually good it is " Mary said, "Completely incoherent. A puzzle."

Charley shook his head and crumbled the papers, "No, I can't. This needs to be good."

"Hey, calm down, Charley. No need to destroy that." Mary said, "It's a fascinating and confusing mess. How'd you even do that, Charley? How frantic were you?"

"Let's stop talking about it." Charley said, "You want a slice of lemon in your water?"

"No." Mary said, standing up, "I need to go home."

"Oh, come on." Charley said, "Come on, Mary."

"You cannot convince me." Mary said, "You make me so sad."

"Oh, you're one-"

"I know." Mary said, "But that's not our dynamic. Shave and get dressed up, put some lights in this pit."

"Mary-"

"You are the one who's got a chance at a good life." She said, "You _do_ have a good life, divorce and all. Embrace it."

"You have a pretty good life too, Mary." Charley said, standing and snatching her coat for her. "don't think I'm going to let you forget that."

"Oh yeah…The fat, ugly, heavy drinking single woman-- who by the way hasn't been on a date in 5 years-- who lives in a tiny cramped apartment writing reviews for plays is a perfect example of a great life."

"You're successful, you're not tied down…" Charley said.

"Not being tied down at this point in our lives means that we're going to die alone, Charley." Mary said, "At least  _ you _ have kids."

"I'd bet they end up visiting their Auntie Mary more than me in their twenties." Charley said, draping her coat over her shoulders, "Why are you _this_ cynical all the sudden?" 

"Realism." She said, yawning.

Charley rolled his eyes, "That's not true. That's  _ not true _ . Realism doesn't have to be cynical."

"The good ones are." Mary said.

Mary at that pushed past him and opened the door

"Mary-" Charley said, "-Wait."

She stopped, groaning "What?"

"I know he made you promise that you wouldn't, but you're not friends anymore." Charley said, "can I  _ please _ have Frank's number?"

She laughed, "Oh goodie.." she spun around, took her pen out and pulled Charley's arm, scribbling the numbers on the underside of Charley's wrist.

Her demeanor completely changed and she was out the door in 10 seconds flat. Out of Charley's view in 15.

Charley had once been recommended to write a list. A list of things that Frank had said to him that Charley was still not over so they could discuss them openly. Charley tried to, but he couldn't recall ones he was  _ still _ upset about. He could recall a lot, just not any that had  _ any _ effect on his relationship.

The unfinished list was still tucked into a folder somewhere. 

He was  _ going _ to call Frank, eventually. But the phone rang before he could.

"Charley-"

It was his son.

"Dad! Dad!"

Charley sighed, "Yes?"

"Dad, Mr. Krazz still hasn't heard from you."

"Ah- shi- I will call. Right now. Okay? Is everything else okay?"

"yeah."

"okay.. okay. Good. I love you, have a good night-" Charley hung up before any conversation could be continued.

Mr. Krazz talked on and on about Charley coming down. Apparently it would be an  _ all day _ event, for all his classes. Charley had never been less interested in that. But he agreed nonetheless. 

"Listen, it's not that late- I know it's last minute but can we meet somewhere to discuss this in person?"

Charley shifted, "I'm free. "

"Where are you?"

Charley gave him his building. He went silent. Charley cleared his throat. He remained silent.

"What apartment?"

"0210." Charley said.

"You're not going to believe this but I live right below you. 0120"

Charley laughed, "I can come down."

Mr. Krazz  _ was _ one of those men that Charley had encountered time and time again. 55, grey, single, in a tiny well decorated apartment, drinking wine.

"So are you and Mrs Kringas--?"

Charley nodded, "Long time coming. Not a harsh one though."

"unfortunate." He said.

"Oh, it's all fine." Charley said.

Charley decided that  _ he _ was going to bed the washed out writer tonight. He placed a hand on Mr. Krazz's arm.

"I personally think divorce is wrong." He said, "I've never been married but I think marriage should be cherished."

"Uh-huh." Charley said, "That's an interesting topic. I have a friend- if you're aware of my work, it's Franklin Shepard- who's on his second divorce."

"I am aware of Franklin Shepard." He said, not moving his hand, "Fascinating." 

"Some men just.. don't work the best with women." Charley said, trying to make eye contact with him.

The man stood up and cleared his throat, "We have it all sorted out. Sorry for keeping you so long."

Charley stood as well, "Of course."

"of course." He said, walking Charley to the door. 

Once out the door, around the corner up the stairs, he almost screamed. It wasn't fair.  _ Years and years of men like that being interested in me and I end up in a room with the one man who isn't. _

He called Frank.

Ringing

Ringing

Ringing.

_ Gussie. _

"I don't know how you got this number but-"

Charley could barely hear her over his heart pounding "Hello, Ms. Carnegie." Charley said.

She went silent.

She spoke, "Charles Kringall..." 

"Was he there?" Gussie said 

"You don't know where he is?" Charley said.

"Not a clue." Gussie said, voice exact and slow.

"He was here." Charley said.

"That stupid.." she laughed, "What did I tell him?! What did I say?! Is he still there?"

"In my house? No." Charley said, "I don't know where he went. He came down here, we argued, and now he's gone."

She let out this high and ear shattering scream and then slammed the phone down, the dial tone making Charley jump.

_ No Frank _ .

_ Frank could be dead you know? He could've killed himself because of what you said! What are you doing? What are you doing? Why did you do any of this? Why'd you call her? Why'd you call Gussie in the first place. Why'd you not call back? Why are staring? You're not seeing. What's happening? Why are you here? WHY ARE YOU HERE? Leave. Frank could be dead you know. Frank is probably dead. He's probably dead. You killed him. You killed your best friend. You killed him because you can't hold your tongue at all. Nothing will change that, might as well compare it to the real thing. Frank's dead because of your words.  _

_ Bullshit. _

_ Bullshit. _

_ You know that's wrong. _

_ I don't know. _

_ You shouldn't of bothered Gussie. She'll be a widow soon enough. _

_ What's wrong with you? _

_ What's wrong with you? _ Frank had asked that before. Almost everyone at one point had asked Charley that. Mary had asked him that when she and Evelyn found him cooped up in his office, writing, for nearly two days straight. Frank had asked him on one of the days that Charley could hardly breathe without it zapping all his will to be. Nothing in particular had triggered it, he just couldn't handle a day. He was curled up on their sofa, in their tiny apartment that they lived in shortly before Charley got married, hair partially tied up. He could recall his exact 

He had been  _ so _ prepared. He had gotten a job in retail just a week prior and he was doing pretty well, only occasionally getting in tizzy with customers. Never too harsh. He'd only dropped out a few weeks ago, his play was getting produced.

And then right as he went to leave, it hit him, paralyzed. He couldn't think, he couldn't breath, and he sat down and tried to steady himself and couldn't.

Frank got home that evening and entered in, expecting Charley not to be there, saw him and froze  _ why are you here? _ And Charley didn't answer and Frank came over and sat next to him  _ What's wrong with you?  _ And Charley couldn't really think of an answer, he didn't know, he said  _ no _ and Frank frowned and put a hand on his head.  _ Everything okay, man? _ And Charley again just squeaked out a  _ no _ and Frank just ran his hands through Charley's hair, his fingers brushing up against Charley's cheek. When Charley got back his will to think, he sat up and leaned on Frank. He could vividly remember what they talked about

_ I think we're going to be the next big thing. _

_ I'm not sure about that. _

_ Don't be so cynical, Charley! Look, people already love you! _

_ But it's not about me, it's about us. _

_ You're half of that. _

_ You can't only like half of something, if you don't like all of it you don't like it all! _

_ Hey, hey, calm down. _

and Frank had an arm around him the whole time. They didn't even write that night, a rarity in those days. It made him feel better. But of course, how it was, it didn't just go away the next day. Frank wasn't nearly a quarter century of psychotherapy. But he wasn't frozen, he could function. He felt bad for a couple of weeks after that, and did end up losing the job.

He needed to write.

" Tim: And I loved him more than I loved anything else on earth, even my wife. Even myself. My god, how I waited for him to come through. He would imply it, rubbing my shoulders as I wrote. (A beat) a girl he loved used to dig her cigarettes into my arms when I fell asleep on him at the drive-in. I'd open my eyes and bite my tongue to keep from screaming when I felt them and make eye contact with her, she'd turn around quickly... She was in the right. She had no idea what really went on in that car when she wasn't looking."

Charley looked away.

He looked back down.

_ A day before your wedding. _

"Tim: I have 500 dollars in my bag, I'm not going to be married till tomorrow. We can go, if you want me. We can go anywhere. We can go out west."

"Tim: There are all sorts of places for people like you and I, Gil. We just have to find them, Gil! And yes we are like them and I need to say it out-"

_ The day of _ .

"Tim: I will never be alone again."

Charley slammed his hands down, pushing the typewriter away and laying his head down on the table. A headache had developed behind his eyes, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. It felt like his eyes were melting. Charley went to the bathroom, took his glasses off, splashed water in his eyes and leaned over the sink, gripping his hands on either side. Headaches like this led to dizziness, he needed to lie down. 

His son called again and they discussed Evelyn.

"Why can't we live with you?"

"I don't make enough money, kiddo"

"You were the one who raised us? why can't you be here and Mom gets her own place?"

"Well, we could do that but I'd barely make rent." Charley said, "So if you'd like not eating, sure."

"Dad, it's just weird not having you around.."

"Once the divorce is all over, we'll have everything worked out." Charley said.

"When is that?"

"4 to 6 months." Charley said.

"I don't want to wait that loonnnng!"

"Kiddo-"

"What about just me?"

"What?"

"Why can't I just live with you?"

"Kiddo."

“I can sleep on your couch.”

“That won’t be fair to your sisters.”

“I hate living with so many girls! I’m a man! They all-”

“Get used to it, kid.”

“You sure did.”

“Excuse me?” Charley said, “Young man-”

He hung up.

Charley felt the headache throb again and he leaned back, closing his eyes. He sat up, called again.

“Evelyn Garfiel-”

“Is everything alright over there?” Charley said, “He just called me.”

She sighed, “Charley, he’s mad that I told him that he should wait till he’s 16 to date.” 

Charley grumbled, “Wonderful- he’s okay, isn't he?”

“He’s fine.” Evelyn said.

“Evelyn-- Did you ask him or does he just look like it?” Charley said.

“Are you going to try to scold me for my parenting skills?” Evelyn said, “If you are, please don’t.”

“I’m the one who spent the majority of their lives with them, Evelyn.” Charley said. “I know how they work-”

“Is this your way to say you’ll be trying for full custody?”

“We already agreed against that.” Charley said, “If you want me to take the kids-”

“I don’t, Charley.” she said, “I like how we’re working now.”

“So do I.” Charley said.

“Then stop criticizing how how I raise my kids.”

“They’re my kids too, Evelyn.” Charley said, “I get to have a word in when it comes to their emotional health.”

“Now you’re framing this as a matter of emotional health.” She laughed, “Goodnight, Charley. I’ll check up on him.” She hung up.

Evelyn was raised alongside her siblings. Her sister and brother were both close to her age. She used this whenever she could to show that unlike Charley, who was the youngest of four and had practically no connection with even his youngest brother, she knew how to raise kids. She knew how kids acted. She was used to it. Charley sorta always found it annoying. His first niece was born when he was 5. He was well aware of how to work with kids. He had to prove himself to her when the girls were born, that he’d make a good father. He did back then. When the kids were little and weren’t thinking about being adults yet and social problems for them was stolen toys, he was a great dad. That was slipping.

Maybe he’d never been. 

_ No point in overthinking it. _

_ You are at least a better dad than Frank. _

_ Why are you still thinking about him? _

Charley needed to call his agent, about the  _ Confession _ . He knew it would cause some arguing about whether or not something of its subject was best for Charley’s portfolio. Charley’s controversial works were never this.. Apparent. Charley stood up and left the kitchen, he needed to write more.

He did not write.

He needed to find that box. 

HIs things were still mostly still in boxes, up against the wall by the door. It wasn’t a pretty sight but finding the time and energy for these things was a rare bet. Maybe once a week and even then he usually ad to put that toward more important things. He pulled down the highest one and opened it up, sorting through the various objects. No box. Next cardboard box, no box. Next one, no. No. No. No. 

He called again.

His son answered.

“Hi, kiddo.” Charley said.

Silence.

“Hi, Dad.”

Silence,

“So, there is this wooden box uhm.. Somewhere around there and it's very important to me and it doesn’t open- uhm.” Charley cleared his throat, “Could you see if you get it out? I can come down there and grab it quickly.”

“Yeah.” He said.

“Thank you, I’ll be right over.”

Charley got over there at while later, knocking on the door and listening contently. He still had a key. He wouldn’t use it. His son opened the door and let him in. Sitting on the sofa was the smashed box, bits of wood scattered around the floor. It its former contents, unfolded letters and opened journals from decades prior, stacked by it. 

His son stepped to the side, folding his arms. Charley put a hand on the wall next to him to balance.

“Did you look through it?”

His son shifted his weight, “I…”

“Did you read through it?” Charley said, “Through what was in there?”

He nodded.

_ Silence. _

__ Charley clenched his hands into fists and turned to his son, “Why would you do that?!” He tried not to sound angry.

“I don’t know.” He said, taking a step back.

“You cannot, ever, mention any of that, ever, to anyone else. Ever.” Charley said.

“It doesn’t make sense.” He said. “some of that stuff is from when I was alive.”

“Kiddo.” Charley said, picking the papers and journals up and placing them in what was left of the box. “I-”

His son reached over and helped him pack up the papers, “Can you explain them to me?”

Charley nodded, “I guess I have to.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHOCKING! local man doesn't have the best parenting skills despite what he says. SHOCKING! local man gets screwed over by not burning his things.
> 
> 90% dialogue, 10% ???


	4. A Study In Things Not To do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley and his son talk about his letters to Frank.

"Where's your mother and sisters?" Charley said.

"School thing." He said, sitting down, "I saw some letters in there from Grandpa." 

"Did you read them?" Charley said.

"No, I only read the ones you wrote to Mr. Shepard." He said, "I'm sorry."

Charley crossed his legs and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

"I was young." Charley said, "And stupid and angry at the world."

His son looked away.

"It was years ago." Charley said, "I wrote the last one almost 7 years ago. And the ones I'm sure that are upsetting were written when-  _ before- _ before you were even born."

"I just don't understand it." He said.

"You don't have to, because it doesn't matter. It's outdated." Charley said, "I was young and stupid and not well."

"Then why do you care if I share them with mom?"

"Because they'll hurt her feelings." Charley said, "They're personal to me."

"But I'll just say they're outdated." He said.

Charley took one off the pile, "Frank never even saw these."

His son shook his head, "You still have a week."

"What?" Charley said.

"You said you weren't going to show them to him till-" he stopped, "Oh wait.."

Charley nodded, placing the letter back in, "Let's not talk about it, okay? It's a very shameful thing for me."

"Does Auntie Mary know?" He asked.

"No." Charley said, "She never knew."

"knew?"

"knew." Charley said, "I wouldn't of- look-"

He crossed his arms, "Is that why you're getting divorced?"

"No." Charley said, "The things I said about her, they were not how I really felt."

"But you still said them."

" Never to her." Charley said, "or anyone, ever. I kept those to myself- I was emotional. I was young." 

"I'm young." He said, "and I'm not like.. that.. I'd never write letters like that!"

"When I was your age I didn't write letters." Charley said, shaking his head, "I only started when I had no one to talk to, kiddo."

"but you had Mom and everyone." He said.

"There are different types of talking." Charley said, "You don't talk to me about everything, you have friends to talk about that for. And you don't tell your friends Everything you tell me. There was a thing that I couldn't discuss with anyone, not even my psychiatrist, so I wrote it down."

"I just don't understand." He was getting heated. "I always thought you were cool! I always thought you were better than mom! But you're not! Everyone in this family sucks!"

"Don't say that." Charley said.

"Someone needs to say it." He said, "I wish I had a normal dad."

"What's a 'normal dad'?" Charley said. "I'd love to know."

" _ Mike's _ dad wouldn't write letters like this." He said, "He's  _ rough. _ "

Charley shook his head, "Mike's Dad also didn't raise 4 kids day in and night for 16 years."

"Because he worked!" His son said. "And he wasn't breathing down his son's neck!"

Silence. His son shifted in his seat again and looked away, blinking.

Twisting his wrist, Charley flipped the broken box and it's content over, with force, onto the sofa. His son flinched away, barely avoiding the box and stared up at him.  _ Why would you do that?  _ For the first time in his life, Charley saw pure fear in his son's eyes. It was that dull glint right in the pupil, and the fiercely perked up eyebrows, and the quivering. He was about to cry. Charley kneeled down and opened his arms up to offer a hug. He pushed him away, stood up, and made a bee-line to his room. Charley kneeled there for a while before standing and going home.

The phone had been ringing every five and a half minutes. That's how Charley knew it was Evelyn calling. She knew exactly how to do it to make Charley as annoyed as possible: right as he got used to the silence  _ BRRRRING, BRRRRING _ . It was almost genius, it mostly wasn't. Eventually she'd call Mary, out of anger or out of frustration, and she'd start calling too then when he wouldn't answer her she'd probably get real annoyed. That was going to be a ride.

Evelyn had been calling seemingly whenever she was home for the past 3 days. It would soon escalate to her or Mary coming down but in the meantime Charley found ways to ignore it. He'd bought a couch and a bunch of houseplants. 

He had no real decorations except for the plants: two of those small trees with the big leaves up against the wall on either side of the door, a hanging plant over the window and various smaller plants, succulents and a spider plant.

It gave him something to do. He'd spent way too much money on them and he'd hurt himself carrying them up the stairs, but he needed them. Something about plants had drawn him in. He never wanted plants before. He hated them, they were too much responsibility. But when he saw them he felt like he was going to die, his heart began to pound and his vision felt disconnected, if he didn't buy them. 

There  _ were _ some photos on the wall. He'd found them in the box. The kids were all so little. No art. He needed to find some art and put it up.

It was something, anything, to distract him. 

Charley was half asleep on the sofa with a wet washcloth over his eyes. It helped the headaches. It didn't help when every few minutes the phone was ringing. _BRRRINNG BRRRINNNGG_. He wanted to rip it out of the wall. _BBBBRRRINNNNG. BRRRRINNNG._ _SILENCE._

Silence.

Silence.

Charley could finally sleep.

He dreamt of an event years ago, writing a letter. It was their first apartment, Charley'd just moved in. He could almost recall exactly what he wrote. 

Frank was curled up, sound asleep, right next to him. His arm had been sorta draped over his chest, since Frank slept almost on his stomach sorta on his side and up real close, and Charley had woken up late by Frank's foot jamming into his calf. Charley reached over and flicked the light on and snatched a piece of paper and a pen off the side table but unlike when it really happened, where he silently wrote it down and then folded and slipped it into the drawer, he spoke it.

" Frank,

It's been 3 days. I can't thank you enough for taking me in like this. I've tried to and I probably will still try. The other option wasn't the best, I don't really think Chicago is the place for me (especially if you won't be there) and I probably shouldn't of dropped out in the first place but the past is the past and I'm going into better things.

I thought yesterday, as I exited from an interview, that maybe you are repaying me for convincing my parents to let you stay over night after night. That's not entirely fair, but I'll accept it.

I can hear you talk in your sleep through the wall every other night and I like listening to it. You don't say anything coherent but I like the sound. Your voice is wonderful. I wish you'd talk in your sleep now, I guess you're too tired. I wish you'd sing more. You always tell me to sing more but I want you to sing. I wish I could just hear you sing every moment of my day.

Speaking of singing, I have three words stuck in my head: Good Thing Going.

Your arms are pretty nice too. You are lying right next to me and I can feel your leg sorta weaved between mine. That woke me up.

but I'm awake and looking at your arms. They're just nice. Like a statue's arms. I don't want to touch you because you'll need to be up in a few hours and you'll be tired enough without me bothering you anymore. Goodnight."

And like every time before there was no reaction and like every time before he couldn't remember the color of the floors or what he was wearing so it was replaced with things he knew were wrong but fit in nicely.

He'd been having this dream whenever he had a headache for the past 15 years. 

He woke up to banging on the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline changes are sexy.


	5. Stagefright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley and Evelyn have a conversation.

Groggy, Charley stood up. The headache hadn't left, still right where it was. Snatching his glasses off the back of the sofa, he sat up and looked around. The banging on the door continued.

The urge to lie low was strong and he stared at the door, hoping whoever it was would leave. Charley looked at his watch. 6:43. He last remembered 8:15. It was morning.

The banging continued before a shout, "Charley, I know you're in there." It was Evelyn. She would wake up the neighbors if he didn't answer. He blinked away some residual exhaustion and went to the door, unlocking the chain-lock and then the normal lock before opening it a bit.

The kids weren't with her.

He opened it.

"I've been calling you non-stop, you can't just-" she stopped and crossed her arms, "Let's sit to discuss it, unless you're going somewhere which I don't think you are."

Charley opened the door all the way and flicked on the light. She stood in the doorway for a bit, narrowing her eyes.

"What's with the plants?" She said, entering.

Charley closed the door behind her, "Gives me something to talk to."

She sat down on the sofa, on the arm rest.

"Uh-huh." She said.

Charley stayed where he was, tapping his foot.

"I don't even know where to begin." She said, adjusting her glasses. Charley always liked hers, they were half-rim. 

"I'll give him an apology the moment I can." Charley said, "I'm trying to work it out with myself so that I don't come off too harsh."

She put her hand up and then ran it through her hair, "Call the kids tonight, let them know you love them."

"I will." Charley said. 

She laughed and adjusted her glasses again, "You know, I told them since you're not living with us we can get a TV again. They liked that."

Charley smiled, "I'm sure they did." He stayed where he was.

Evelyn crossed her legs, "You know that I want you to sit down."

"I know." Charley said, "But I'd rather not." 

"Fine, Charley." She said, "Charley."

Charley looked just above her head, staring at the window. 

"Charley, Charley, Charley." She said, "The letters.. All over.. I- I wasn't going to read them.. But- Charley, I don't know what to say."

Charley kept his eyes focused on the window, leaning back up against the door.

"You said, in one of them," she stopped and pulled a folded up piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it and holding it out. "I don't.. I don't even know how to feel." 

Charley finally moved, walking forward and snatching the letter. He crossed the room and sat at his desk, looking over it. He remembered writing  _ this one _ . Vividly. He had been angry crying, hunched over his desk, and when he finished it he stood up and went to Frank's room and pinned it on the door. And then 10 minutes later, ripped it down and folded it and put it in his box. 

"I wish you-" she stopped and covered her face with her hands.

"I.. wasn't in my best state of mind when I wrote this, Eva." Charley said.

"Just like how you were when you wrote the others? I read them  _ all _ , Charley." Evelyn said, "You were  _ constantly _ talking about frank playing with your emotions and that's exactly what you did to me- for 20 years. 20 years, Charley. All you had to do was say, on that night, that you couldn't do it. There wasn't much money in it, there wasn't many people coming to it. I would've been angry but that wouldn't of lasted 20 years. Charley, I was in love with you."

Charley clenched his jaw and nodded. No words were coming to mind. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her, looking just above her, focusing on the wall.

"I didn't even want to marry you." She said, " _ You  _ asked _ me _ . And I knew that it was my  _ only _ chance. I wasn't pretty, I wasn't destined to be ultra successful. I was too stringent. But you liked me all the same. You were this wiry 19 year old college dropout who couldn't keep a job, I could've done so much better but I was so head over heels in love with you that I didn't care."

Charley swallowed hard, "...When did you fall in love with me Evelyn?"

"It was.." she looked away, "When I got you out of jail. A month after meeting. Was it Mary or Frank you didn't trust to get you? And we were laughing on the way home as you told me how it happened."

Charley placed the letter down, "It wasn't all that bad, Evelyn. You were happy without knowing about any of this." 

"But it changes the context of the good times we had together, Charley." Evelyn said, "It makes these 20 years less of a bumpy but wonderful part of my life and more of a mistake. I liked having you around. Charley, I fully expected to keep you in my life, as a  _ friend _ . My life is great, but now you  _ can't _ be apart of it. You're the father of my children and that is all."

"Evelyn." Charley said.

"20 years." Evelyn said, "You stole 20 years of my life to get back at him."

"4." Charley said, "I took 4. The other 16 were for the kids."

Evelyn stood up, shaking her head, and heading toward the door "I'll get you those letters tomorrow."

"Are you going to use them against me?" Charley said, "To get full custody?"

Evelyn stopped in her tracks, "No, but I expect you to do what's right."

Evelyn left, closing the door rather gently behind her. Charley picked the letter up. He couldn't recall exact phrasing, but the general idea of it was still burnt into his mind. The letter was much worse than he remembered. He was harsher than he ever thought he could've been. The letter read:

" Frank,

You can't just do this. You can't just act like this is all fake. This has real impacts on  _ me _ . Do you even realize that I'm real? I don't even know if I am. You have a chance. You asked for it. I gave it to you. You did not take it! That doesn't make any sense to me. You pull me away to  _ kiss me _ but when I take the signs and grab everything we need and say that we can leave whenever we want, that I have all my savings out in cash and that we could leave if you just say the words, you go  _ oh, Charley, you're getting married! _ I don't even want to get married! You know that! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm so lonely and unhappy and you're just sulking off to the side like this is hurting you more than it's hurting me! You are so obsessed with this musical thing that I'm being forced to do this for you. Why can't we just adjust it? Why do we have to do everything by plan? This wasn't in  _ my _ plan but it was in yours so I have to play along. I'm doing exactly what  _ you _ need  _ me _ to do. But I think if you'd just budge on this one thing we could be something else, we could still find our way to music, it just wouldn't be here. It could be out in the middle of the midwest, playing our songs to people in bars. It could be in Michigan for 3 months as we do a show and then in Idaho next. You are so fixated on this that you won't look around you and see that we have other options. We  _ can _ be together. We  _ can _ share our music.

_ I hate _ this city, I  _ hate _ my family, I  _ hate _ this girl, I  _ love _ music and I  _ love _ writing and I  _ love _ you.

I pitched it to you and you turned it down.

And you're gonna regret that and I'm going to regret this stupid marriage. You don't even have to say that you want to go you could just tell me not to do this.

But you won't!! You never will!!!

You couldn't care about me if you were forced to!! No one does! Everyone knows it's crazy! Everyone knows that I shouldn't do this! But no one is willing to say it! And if I say it I'm getting cold feet. I'm cornered.

I know you'll probably never see this letter, unless I gain an ego the size of Alaska by tomorrow night. 

Goodnight."

Charley crumbled the letter up into a ball and tossed it into the trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stan Evelyn


	6. The Things I Do For You!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley finally gets some art for his apartment!

Charley had finally put some art up on the wall! So many. So much art. Probably no other place had this much art on the walls like this.  _ Maybe a museum? Did you forget museum's exist? Yes I did! _ Not commercial art, but original pieces. Letters. The letters. He'd stuck them all to any empty wall he had in the living room, there was nothing left. They complimented the plants. They didn't compliment the furniture. He'd figure it out. He sorta wished he had more, for the bedroom and the kitchen. 

Charley sat by the door, surveying the walls. He'd occasionally catch a pattern in the blocks of black and white and tan and then he'd focus his eyes and it would be gone. He couldn't see the individual letters, but he could make out all the " _ Frank,"s _ in the handwritten ones. Not the word itself, but the general shape. 

He took off his glasses and placed them to the side. Without his glasses, Charley couldn't make out any of the blocks. It all sorta blended together. No "Frank,"s. He kept the glasses off.

The room was spinning. He wasn't dizzy, it just was. He closed his eyes and leaned back, supporting himself with the wall. The room continued to spin. There was a slight hum that grew to a loud hum that grew to an even louder all surrounding hum and that made him open tje eyes. He couldn't see it, the spinning, but he could see the humming. He closed his eyes again. The hum blended in with loud, echoey, knocking. The hum died down and Charley realized that the knocking was different. He put his glasses back on and stood up, leaning on the wall. He blinked twice and then opened the door. 

It was that teacher.  _ What was his name? Kran? Krin? K.. something with a K. How do you not know? _

Charley stepped back and welcomed him in.

"Your wife wouldn't give me your number." He said, "You were supposed to-"

"Would you like coffee? Wine? I think I have some- what time is it?" Charley looked at the window, it could be anytime.

"7:40." He said.

"Morning or evening?" Charley said, turning to the kitchen.

"Evening." He said, "Sir-"

"Sit down- sit down, I'll make both." Charley said. "Keep talking, I can hear you."

"No, Mr Kringas, I assure you. It's fine." He said.

Charley dug through the cupboard and found a bottle of white wine ( _ When did I even buy this? You don't even know, do you?) _ and two glasses, balancing the corkscrew on his pinky. He carried it out and sat next to him, holding Everything between his legs as he opened and poured it. Mr. K stared at him, jaw slightly agape. He looked away and around the room.

"Writer's always have fascinating decorative choices." He said said.

"I'm really sorry about forgetting to talk to your class, whenever that was. I don't really know what day it is- was it supposed to be today?" Charley said, handing him the glass.

"Yes." He said.

"I'm sorry." Charley said, standing up and putting his glass and the bottle of wine next to the plants on the windowsill, "And I'd love to reschedule but-" Charley snatched a piece of paper off his desk and scribbled down some words, "I am leaving the state for a while." 

"Oh." He said, "Mr. Kringas- My students-"

"I'm sure they'll be absolutely distraught." Charley said, "My work is the worst possible stuff to teach to 14 year olds- seriously, what were you thinking?" Charley pulled the tape out and opened the door, sticking the letter on it and his extra key, "Would you mind locking up after you leave? And put the key back up with the tape?"

He stood up, "Where are you going?"

"Paramount- which is in California, I think.. I should double check that- whatever, either way. California." Charley said, snatching his belongings and a jacket, "Stay as long as you'd like, I won't be back for a while and I don't really have anything to hide here, do I? I don't know- I don't think I do."

Charley turned and left down the hall, not closing the door. 

"Mr. Kringas-" Mr. Krazz called after him. "Sir--"

Charley, feet aching, eventually found himself at the Carnegie-Shepard residence. It was half past one in the morning, but his watch was still in New York time.  _ What time would that be _ ?  _ 1 minus 3 _ ? 10.. 10:30. 10:30. It was 10:30. The gate was tall but Charley probably could've climbed it 15 years ago. As a young adult he'd jumped so many fences and those thick brick walls. 

Instead he found the intercom and buzzed it, shifting his weight on one foot and then the next. He buzzed again. He paced in a circle. He buzzed again. Someone answered.

Gussie said, "Hello-"

Charley stopped and smiled, "Hi- it's Charley-- Charles. Charles. Charles Kringas." 

"What?"

"Did you not hear me?"

"Excuse me for a second."

"Okay."

Charley looked up at one of the trees. It was too dark to discern what type of tree it was. It was tall. Charley liked it. 

Lights flicked on the pathway and out came Gussie, dressed in an oversized coat over what seemed to a thin nightgown. She had this complete look of confusion, face illuminated in white. She reached out and unlocked the gate but did not open it and stepped back a bit as if he was a rabid animal who might attack. Then her face did something that Charley didn't think it was capable of doing. Her eyebrows knitted and she tilted her head. She was expressing concern.

Charley stepped back at well, unsure what else to do. She stopped forward and opened the gate, sliding it to the side. They stood, a yard away from each other, eyes wide.

She hesitated then threw her hands up, "Come on in."

Charley had never even seen a place like this. It was too wide and open and colorful. It was somehow light and dark at the same time and curvy and bright and overwhelming. Charley stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot, watching around. Gussie sat nearby on a rounded purple sofa, coat still on, watching him.

"How'd you find this house?" 

Charley grinned, "Oh it's been quite an adventure. I got off a plane today, from Detroit, and took a taxi about 15 miles from here and used my name to get people to talk-- That was a thrill. I hate talking about myself but it was fun to have it come to something good instead of 'kringas?' what sorta name is that?-- and eventually got this address and then I walked allllllllll the way up here."

"Why are you here?" She said.

Age had mellowed her. Her looks had faded slightly. Wrinkles and sagging features had come but only slightly. And her hair was much more.. obviously dyed now. 

"I know where Frank is." Charley said.

"Paramount." She said,

"You knew?" Charley said.

Gussie laughed, "He's living there while we fix our marriage. You think he wouldn't call me?"

"Fix?" Charley said.

"He can't afford  _ another  _ public divorce." She said. "This time there'd be no cruise and there'd be no Gussie to fly out for him. It's for the best."

Charley nodded, "Good to know that he's good. I'll be going."

Charley turned around. He had no idea how to get out of here. He caught his reflection in the window. He was tired and greasy and unshaven. He looked away.

"Where are you staying?" Gussie said, "I'll get you a cab."

"Where am I staying?" Charley turned back around, "I'll figure that out in 15 miles."

Gussie nodded, "Take a seat for a moment, Mr. Kringas." 

"Well I really need to get walking." Charley said.

" **_Sit down_ ** _!" _ Gussie said.

Charley found the nearest chair and sat down, as told. He tapped his foot in rhythm to something that wasn't a song that was stuck in his head.

Gussie walked past him, to the phone. Charley's foot tapping had developed into leg bouncing and the hum had returned just slightly. He could still hear Gussie's slow and exact worded talking above it.

"Hi, yes.. your crazy friend is here for you.. no- not him- no, not that bitch… uh-huh.. no, listen, come get him now.. no it's not him either- Franklin, it's Charles… I don't give a shit if your driver isn't available.. use your own car! You can drive! Get down here or I'm calling the police on him!.. good.. fantastic.." she hung up and walked to Charley, putting hands on his shoulder, "He'll be here in 40 minutes or so." 

"In that amount of time I could be 1/7th way through those 15 miles." Charley said, shifting forward out of her hands.

She let out another one of those laughs. It hurt Charley's head.

"What's your poison, Charley?" She said.

"A lot of things are poisonous." Charley said.

Gussie walked back over to her place on the sofa, looking out the window, "Pitiful." 

"What?" Charley said.

Gussie smiled, "Nothing." 

The humming had become physical, running through his fingers. His fingers twitched and bounced again in the same rhythm of his legs. Charley tied his fingers together to stop it and brought his knees to his chest. 40 minutes felt like 40 hours and when he looked up, Frank had a hand on his arm.

"I didn't believe it." Gussie said after a laugh, now standing, "I had to go out to the gate to make sure I hadn't lost my mind."

Charley couldn't really make out Frank's expression. It was sorta fuzzy, like he couldn't focus on it. Charley could tell he was angry without his face though, his fingers were digging into Charley's arm. 

Frank tugged and Charley stood and let him drag him through the house. Charley's eyes kept catching things that reflected light, little blue and white and purple dots and their own reflection on the windows.

Outside one of those luxury sedans (that back in the day Charley would've keyed) was pulled up in the driveway and Frank dragged Charley to the passenger door and opened it. He was about to push Charley in but Charley got in without a struggle. It was like being arrested. Frank slammed the door after him. The seats were that dark red-bordering-brown leather that Charley hated. He'd, in general, never been the biggest fan of cars. Frank crossed in front of the vehicle and took his seat, closing the door behind him, locking it and gesturing for Charley to do the same. He did. 

Frank tapped his fingers on the steering wheel then stretched and sighed.

"Charley.." he said, groaning.

"Franklin." Charley said.

Frank didn't look at him as they drove till they got down to the town and stopped at a light. 

"Where are you staying?" Frank said.

"I walked." Charley said.

"From LAX?!" Frank said.

"No, I took a taxi from LAX to here and walked up there. Had no time to get a hotel." Charley said.

The light turned and Frank kept driving, eyes focused. He looked tired.

"Let me off here." Charley said, "I'll find some place." 

Frank shook his head, "No, Charley."

"I found some place in Detroit." Charley said.

"When were you in Detroit?"

"Last night." Charley said, "I left last night."

" _ Why _ were you in Detroit?" Frank said.

Charley's foot tapping returned, "Well, I was gonna come straight here but I saw that I could get a flight to Detroit and then one here and I always wanted to go to Michigan so I thought why not."

Frank shook his head, "What did you do?"

"What did I do?"

"In Detroit." Frank said.

"Honestly can't remember." Charley laughed. Being around Frank made him sorta giddy. "I didn't get a hotel there either- And- then I got back on track and realized I needed to make sure you were okay. I could go now."

Frank sighed, "When was the last time you slept?"

"In Detroit." Charley said.

"How are you not- you know what, I'm not going to ask." Frank said. "Why would you come  _ all the way  _ out here _? _ "

"I had to make sure you were okay." Charley said.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Frank said.

"Because you said no one cared about you- i care about you Frank!" Charley said, "I hope I've proved that."

"Mhmm." Frank said, "Do you want me to apologize for stopping by your apartment? Is that what you're looking for?"

"No, I just had to make sure you were okay." Charley said, "And Gussie said you were."

Frank let out another sigh, "Does Evelyn know you're out here?"

"Why would it matter?" Charley said. "She's not my wife anymore."

"Oh yeah.. sorry, I forgot. What about Mary, does she know?" Frank said.

"She knows I  _ am _ gone." Charley said, "I left a note for her on my door."

"So no one knows where you are?" Frank said.

"Precisely." Charley said.

"Charley." He said.

"Franklin." Charley said, glancing out the window and catching an array of headlights on the mirror. 

Charley rolled down the window and rested his arm on the door. The air was hot and stuffy and disgusting. He kept the window down. They were moving fast.

"Your family's probably worried about you, Charley. Your kids.." Frank said.

"I know." Charley said, "And I already wasn't the best dad, might as well finish what I started!"

"I don't know what that means." Frank said, "I took your advice by the way."

"What advice?" Charley said.

"All the advice you gave me. Talking to Gussie, talking to a psychiatrist." Frank said. 

"Well all of that was bad advice." Charley said, "Gussie doesn't deserve you and shrinks won't help you in the long run."

"Whatever you say, Charley." Frank said. "It's working for me."

"But will it be working in three months? A year? Five years? 22 years?" Charley said.

"There's no way to know for sure." Frank said. "But, to risk a presumption, I think so."

"Oh." Charley said.

"I panic at the thought of people leaving me." Frank said, "And so I pushed you and Gussie out my life to keep it from happening. If I pushed you away, you couldn't leave--"

Charley kept his eyes on the mirror, on the headlights, letting Frank continue to talk without listening. He wanted to listen but the humming was still there and the lights Eventually they stopped outside a smaller house and Frank reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on." Frank said, "Let's get you to sleep."

"I'm not tired." Charley said as they stepped up to the door.

"I have some sleeping pills." Frank said, putting an arm around him as they entered, "You  _ look _ tired."

It was that same ultra-modern furniture with all the light and dark and coldness and windows. Except there was the occasional unfitting thing here, old furniture that Charley recognized as Frank's. A piano. A bookcase full of books. He recognized Mary's book and a few of his plays. Frank sat him down on the sofa, leaving the room. Charley lied down, propping his head on the armrest. He could last remember Frank returning with a glass of water and a pill, standing in the archway. Frank placed them down on the table and said something and then Charley passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Charley has a goal, he goes for it. Sure, he'll probably get distracted on the way, but eventually he'll get to it.   
> -
> 
> I wrote most of this at like 2 am and the problem with that is that I had to get into Charley's brain and therefore got my own little burst of energy that kept me up. That's just reason #924718 why Charley is the worst.


	7. Coming Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Paramount, Frank attempts to work out what exactly to do with Charley.

When Charley woke up, it was a different time. Frank was talking. He wasn't sure if it was morning or afternoon or if Frank just had way too many lights. It was blinding. The humming was gone. Everything was too loud without the humming. He flinched at the bright light, closing his eyes, and rolled over onto his side, feeling around for his glasses. They weren't on his face. When he couldn't find them with his hands, he opened his eyes and glanced around the room. His wallet and keys and glasses had been taken from him and we're on the table in front of the sofa.

"Well I don't know about.. Are you crazy?.. don't you know what that would look like when the press got ahold of it.." Frank stopped, looked over, and mouthed  _ go back to sleep _ to him and then went back to talking, "I can see it now.. Yeah, it would make me look like a total asshole.. okay.. okay…Get in contact with him and tell him to call." Frank hung the phone up, placing it back down on the table and turned back to Charley, stepping over and handing him his glasses.

"Who are you calling?" Charley said, putting them on and sitting up.

"My agent." Frank said, "Mary wouldn't answer her phone and so I'm getting my agent in contact with your agent so that I can get in contact with Evelyn."

Charley shook his head, reaching over to the phone, dialing and handing Frank the receiver.

"Who is--"

"Mary's Probably in my apartment." Charley soad, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Mary.. No- no, I wasn't calling for Charley.. I knew he was gone... I  _ know _ he's gone.. I'm looking for you.. Mary, he _ 's here _ … he is half-asleep on my couch right now… yes, he's fine.. as fine as Charley  _ ever _ is.. What?..  **_Mary_ ** ! Wait!.." he stopped, "She hung up."

"Makes sense." Charley said.

"She wanted me to tell you that she watered your plants as instructed." Frank said, "And that she's rather angry with you." 

"Both very reasonable responses." Charley said. "Considering the decorations in my apartment."

"What?" Frank said. "Nevermind- some quick questions: Why do you have 3 driver's licenses? Why is only one of them yours? Who is Gregory L. and why do you have his number scribbled on a napkin? Why do you have 3500 dollars in your jacket? Why do you have 750 more dollars in your wallet? Is that all your savings? How are you not dead from the heat? Should I have brought you to a hospital last night? Why did you go to Gussie? How'd you get to Gussie? Why wouldn't you take a cab up there? Why would you walk 15 miles in those shoes- those  _ were _ good shoes.  _ Why did anyone let you come out here like this? _ "

"I don't know. I don't remember. Because it  _ is _ all my savings. I don't know. Definitely not, no hospitals. Because I knew she'd know where you were. Long story. I like walking and I really like walking." Charley said, grabbing his wallet and keys and putting them in his pocket, "Can I call myself a cab?"

"No!" Frank said.

"Yeah, that does make sense. I did just say that liked walking." Charley stood up and was instantly hit with a wave of dizziness and fell back down.

"No, Charley- You're staying here!" Frank said, "Jesus Christ..  _ Why are you doing this? _ Why are you here?! In what world would it be okay to just show up at my wife's house?!"

"In the world that I thought you were dead in." Charley said.

"Why didn't you make Mary call her?! Jesus, I'm sure she would've told you I wasn't dead if you asked!" He was shouting now, "Stuff like this Charley- it's weird, it's creepy- you could've gotten robbed and lost all that money- you could've been killed! Gussie was going to call to get you taken away to a hospital and I  _ almost _ just told her to do that and honestly? I probably should've!" He went quiet for a minute then shook his head, "Come on, I'll show you to the guest room. You should give yourself a few more hours of sleep." 

Frank stepped forward and helped him up.

Before the kids, Charley and Evelyn would spend any time they had with each other out. They'd spend time with mutual buddies, protesting. Everything from marching to die ins to the most direct of direct action. And when they weren't out being civil-y disobedient and Charley wasn't getting beat by police for running his mouth or.. really anything they'd hang out with other buddies, take anything they were offered and end up equally as disoriented in a strange room 

That's sorta what Charley felt like when he woke up. He was technically aware that this was Frank's house and how he'd gotten there, but it had that same sense of distance and lack of familiarity. 

Charley wasn't sure what day it was.

_ Try to recall: Whoever the hell Gregory L. was. _

Charley wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping. 

_ Try to recall: What the hell you were thinking when you hung up all the letters on the wall. _

Charley wasn't sure if he was, or had been, on something. 

_ Try to recall: Why you thought it was remotely okay to make sure Mary saw them. _

Charley wasn't sure if it mattered.

_ She must be heartbroken. _

Charley knew that he was in Paramount.

_ I'm a terrible friend. _

He sat up, not putting his glasses on. Frank entered and handed him a glass of water.

"Realized you should.. probably get some water in you" Frank said.

Charley sipped it. It was  _ bitter. _ He did not take another sip.

"Why are you drugging me?" Charley said.

Frank sat down next to him, shaking his head, "I mixed vitamin powder in it, Charley, but I don't think that's considered drugging."

Charley nodded, placing it off to the side, "Oh."

"I called your brother." Frank said.

"Which one? If it's Lorenzo, do the opposite of whatever he told you because the only two options he thinks are reasonable for me is living with him or committing myself."

"It.. was the one that's a doctor." Frank said. "I don't remember his name just had his number in my book as 'Charley's brother'"

"Oh." Charley said, "What did he say?"

"Just that he was happy you were okay- he didn't know you were divorced and he got real angry that Evelyn hadn't told him you were gone and I was all 'shes not his wife' and he hasped."

Charley shook his head, "I didn't plan to bring the subject up to my family till it was all finalized. Custody and everything."

"Ah..sorry." Frank said.

"It's only fair." Charley said, "Gives me a reason to go home sooner." 

Frank sighed, "He said you'd want to leave."

"Did he?" Charley said, "Wonderful. And here's the thing, Frank, he's a shrink but he's not  _ my _ shrink and I  _ need _ to see mine and he is sadly in New York."

"Ah." He nodded, "And so let's say I let you get on a plane to New York, how do I know you won't just, I don't know, go to Detroit again? How do I know you won't just get off at your connecting spot and end up dead in, I don't know, Kansas City?"

"I  _ need _ to see my psychiatrist, Frank, I am not well!" Charley said.

"I CAN TELL! I'm not  _ observant _ but I'm not stupid either, Charley." Frank said. "and that's why I'm going to call Mary and get her to come down here and fly with you and make sure you  _ actually _ go home."

Charley laughed, "She won't come."

"She loves you-"

"And she's an alcoholic." Charley said, "Who hates flying and is  _ very _ angry at me."

"One of your brothers.." Frank said.

Charley looked around the room as he spoke, there was an ultra-modern painting right across the room, "Don't do that to me."

"Anyone, Charley!" He said, "I could probably convince Evelyn."

"No, you can't. You can't convince her just like you can't convince Mary and you wouldn't be able to convince anyone else because I am not a child, I do not need handholding to get ahold of myself."

"You seem to! What would've happened if- if you didn't find Gussie? Would you have just kept walking till you passed out? Ended up alone in the hospital? Jailed for whatever crazy stunt you did? I think that you'd be dead!"

"Why are you so angry?" Charley said, "it's like I publicly embarrassed you." 

"You are out of control!"

"Why does it concern you?" Charley said, the giddiness was returning, "Why does it matter so much to you? If I go off to wherever or if I go back to New York, it's all the same to you." He was laughing, "I  _ want _ to leave, Frank. I want to leave right now. I want to be anywhere but here! And you shouldn't give a shit-"

Frank raised a hand up to Charley's face as if he was going to slap him but stopped centimeters short and reeled away. Charley froze, but his heart began to pound and he held his breath to keep from hyperventilating. Frank stared at him, then averted his eyes down to the floor. There was a long while of silence from Frank and then he cleared his throat and stood up.

"I promised when I was a kid never to he physical like my father. I've…Already broken that promise once and I don't want to do it again." He walked to the door and stopped, "I'm gonna make you something to eat. I'm sure you're hungry." He left.

Unlike the nights with Evelyn back in their 20s, Charley hadn't crashed just yet. His brain was still rapid, repeating anything that he said over and over again. He didn't want to crash. Everything was winding down, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to change it, go back. 

The two sat on the bed eating. Frank had borrowed him clothing (pants that were so large that Charley had to safety pin them halfway down the leg to keep them from dragging, and a shirt that was like wearing a blanket) and Charley had spent at least 150 minutes in the shower attempting to get however-many-days worth of dirt and sweat out of his hair. He was 90% sure that he'd stayed at some man's house in Detroit and showered there but the 10% worth of doubt was more than a burden. He still needed to shave but enjoyed making Frank annoyed. Frank had never been able to grow much facial hair.

The food was a plate of those frozen oven fries that they were sharing. They were burnt and unsalted but Charley wasn't sure of the last time he'd eaten except that he was very hungry. Frank had sorta retracted back and was letting Charley finish them. 

"So you don't have any idea at all what you did in Detroit?" Frank said.

"I have bits of it." Charley said, finishing the fries and tapping the plate with his fingers, "About a third will eventually come back to me and I'll probably get real upset over it- I'm mostly sure I just walked around the city and drank and did whatever looked interesting and whatever that was it was probably illegal and- you know, Frank, I need to pace because I am antsy but I feel like you don't want me to. 

Frank nodded, "You are.. still like this. I thought sleep would've mellowed you out, man."

"Only time can mellow me out. " Charley said. 

"I thought time would've mellowed you out.. over the years." Frank said.

"I am  _ deeply _ boring. That's how I was mellowed. Believe me, if I didn't have friends and Evelyn 10 years ago? I would've probably ended up in Spain high on whatever they did in 1970 in Spain. This is nothing."

"How did people stop you, back then?" Frank said, sliding the plate away from him and grabbing Charley's hand.

"Don't touch me- Well Evelyn was usually around so it's hard to just randomly leave and plus, whenever I'd get close I'd feel intense guilt Because of the kids." Charley said, "Oh! Oh, when I left, this time, I left someone who was practically a stranger in my apartment and told him to just lock up whenever he felt like it. I had an unfinished play on my desk so I can bet- and just all sorts of stuff. Everywhere- I just shouldn't ever go home."

Frank shook his head, "You probably should."

"You're right!" Charley said, "But you're right about other things too. If I got on a flight now I'd do  _ anything _ but go back to New York."

"Why?" Frank said.

"I don't know." Charley said, "I  _ just _ got all these wonderful plants and decorated I think sorta nicely. And I think I'm doing pretty good. I just don't want to be there."

"Where do you want to be?"

He hated when Frank got like this. All too willing to give advice he had no right to give. 

_ Frank has never had this life together _

"I dunno." Charley said, "I think I just want to black out for a couple of months and when I come to have everything settled."

"You know what you need?" He said, "A roommate. Keep you level."

"You know I like my privacy, Frank." Charley said.

"Go make some 22 year old actress swoon and let her live with you." Frank said.

"Frank, that's terrible." Charley said.

"Mary, then." Frank said.

"I'm not going to ask Mary to sleep on my couch." Charley said. "Stop bringing her up. She has her own things she needs to work through, Frank! She's an alcoholic!"

"Then move in with her. She's got a guest bedroom at her place, doesn't she? Help each other." Frank said, putting a hand on Charley's arm.

Charley grabbed his hand, "Don't touch me."

Frank pulled his hand away, standing up, "Calm down." 

"Just don't touch me! It's not that hard to do." Charley said.

"It's not that big of a deal." Frank said.

"I told you not to touch me and you continued to touch me!" Charley said. "Why can't you just listen?!"

The switch in Frank's brain flipped and he went cool and calm and gently smiled, "Why are you shouting?" 

"Because you're not listening to me, Frank! You haven't listened to me at all!" Charley couldn't calm himself down. "You never do!"

Frank stepped forward and put hands on his shoulders, "You can either calm down or-" 

On an impulse, Charley leaned forward and hugged him. Frank just stood there.

"I thought you didn't want me to touch you." Frank said, the coolness had slipped away.

"You're gonna touch me anyways so I might as well embrace it now." Charley said.

Frank pushed away, "I won't touch you. Okay? Calm down. I get what you're saying. I get it. You're freaky."

Frank left.

"I sure am!" Charley yelled, laying down.

Morning came eventually. He  _ had  _ slept. Hardly, but it was still what it was. He wrote Frank a quick  _ thanks _ then got ready to leave, as quiet as he could. Frank was a heavy sleeper. 

Charley got to the door, opened it and went out. It was so bright. And hot. And loud. And ugly. But it was beautiful. It was just so plain.

A car sped by on the road.

Charley caught a glance of someone walking down the street. 

Charley hated palm trees.

Charley tried to walk. He needed to get out of here, but he was struck with something. It wasn't dizziness, it wasn't nausea, it was just a general feeling of  _ overwhelmed _ .

He leaned against the column, then eventually down onto the steps. It was too sunny. It was too warm. Charley couldn't look away. 

_ The crash _ .

Sometime later, he heard Frank let out a scream of frustration then the door swung open behind him.

"CHARLEY!" Then, he stopped. He closed the door. He sat down.

"I thought you left!" He said.

"I meant to." Charley said.

"Paparazzi sometimes comes out here." Frank said, "If you want to be outside, sit in the backyard."

"Why do you live here?" Charley said. "In California, I mean."

"The sun makes me happy." Frank said.

"You were the reason I stayed in New York, back when we were young." Charley said. "I wanted to go anywhere else."

"You can stay here as long as you need, Charley." He said.

"Thank you." Charley said, leaning on his shoulder.

"I'm not happy, Charley." Frank said after a while.

"Neither am I." Charley said.

"I've got this great life, I fixed my marriage, I cleaned up my act, but it's not enough. Nothing is ever enough. And its annoying because you were the happy one, you always were. You had the perfect wife and the perfect kids and a family who loved you and you were stable and even and yet.. you are not happy. Is it something that just doesn't exist? Are we all kidding ourselves to seek out happiness? And if we are, what  _ should _ we be looking for?"

"Frank." Charley said.

"Yes?"

"Come back to New York with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Charley's relationship is a metronome going back and forth between "respecting eachother" to "disrespecting eachother" and it's time signature is not-being/good-for-eachother (which is actually the best time signature)


	8. Taste and Talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley learns more about Frank's life.

"I think  _ you _ should stay here." Frank said, "For the rest of the week. At least."

"I don't think that's an option." Charley said.

"Please." Frank said, "Just till you're back to Normal Charley from Wired Charley?"

Charley stood up, "I'm going back New York. You can come with me or you can not."

"Charley, come on." Frank said, standing up by him. He did not touch him.

"I've given you your choice." Charley said. 

"Charley." Frank said.

"You cannot stop me from leaving." Charley said, "And I don't think you should try."

Frank laughed, "What are you going to do then-  _ no _ you  _ can't _ call a cab. There's your choice, stay or figure out some other way to get there. Are you going to take another five hour walk to the airport?"

"Yup." Charley said, and so he walked off the steps, down the driveway, past the fence, and down the road. 

"You're walking the wrong direction!"

"I'll figure it out!" Charley called back.

Charley found himself around the city, much like he did in Detroit. Except this time there was drive or will to walk, no energetic bursts of  _ what's around this corner,  _ no talking to every person he passed on the street. He kept his head low, didn't make eye contact with anyone passing, kept far away from crowds and individuals alike. Sweeped up, focused on his steps. He might've been going in circles, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't sure if he cared. Walking had grown painful, walking had grown exhausting, he just didn't have anything else to do.

Charley had always enjoyed walking. As a young child, he wasn't allowed to do real sports so he'd take long walks around the neighborhoods, waiting outside friends of his brothers' till they came out and then walking with them back home or to the next place they had to go. And as a teenager he would walk around the same neighborhood on loop waiting for Frank to show up. At age 17, for a few weeks when Frank was out of town, he'd walked from his home to Merrillville over a few days and then hitch hiked from there to New York to spend a few weeks in the summer with his uncle (who Charley hadn't called to tell he was coming and who promptly called Charley's eldest brother and made him drive 6 hours from cape cod to pick Charley up) and in his 20s whenever he got angry and irritable and didn't want to bite someone's head off, he'd take a long walk sometimes for hours. After the interview that went ary he'd walked for almost 8 hours straight afterward, jaw aching.

He'd been told by his doctor that walking for hours without more than the occasional 10 minute rest could damage his body.

Charley'd find his way somehow.

Cars were rushing past him on the road as the sun began to set. Charley stopped, rubbing his eyes, then continued on. A car had been following him for a while. It was probably Frank. Charley wouldn't humor him. He kept walking, speeding up a bit. The car sped up as well and Charley stopped. The backseat window rolled down.

"Charles." It was Gussie.

Charley kept walking, slower and the car followed after him.

"I thought Frank would've kept you in." Gussie said.

"I'm trying to find my way to LAX." Charley said, "Gussie."

"I'll bring you there." She said.

"No thanks." He said, stopping.

"Why won't you go away?" She said.

"I'm trying to, you just won't stop talking to me." She said.

"From my life." She said, "Charley always ends up back. God, he talks about you. Can't stand when anyone else does. I can't escape you."

"Well, I'm just that magnificent, aren't I?" Charley said, walking again.

"I would love to spend a day where I am not forced to think about mister Charles funny-name."

"Kringas."

"It was a joke."

"I didn't know you made those."

She laughed, "You're only going to make it worse by leaving."

"What?" Charley said.

"You're just going to make him think about you more." She said, "It's like he's in love with you or something."

Charley stopped, "Scoot over."

She opened the door and scooted over, he got in, closing the door behind him. She leaned forward then stopped and looked at him.

"LAX?" She said.

"I don't know." Charley said.

She looked away, "Back to my place, the  _ long _ way, Jeffery."

"Why are you out here?" Charley said.

"I was driving through about 2 miles back and recognized that hair of yours." Gussie said.

"Wow, two miles. You really don't have any hobbies." Charley said.

"Why'd he make you walk to LAX?"

"He wants me to stay." Charley said.

"And you don't want to?"

"I was going to get on a plane and go to.. well, I'd say New York, but I'd probably end up in Chicago." Charley said, "Why do you care?"

"Because, as much as I don't like it, you're apart of my life, Mr. Kringas." She said, "Might as well  _ try _ to understand what the fuss is about."

"I'm overrated." Charley said.

"No doubt." She said, "Does Mr. Kringas smoke?"

"No, I sing.. but if you're offering.."

She handed him a cigarette and lit it. Charley took drag. Gussie wasn't smoking.

"I need my perfect complexion." Gussie said.

Charley laughed, "I haven't smoked since the 60s.. and even then I never liked it much."

"Why are you doing it then?" Gussie said.

"The same reason you keep a pack on you, I'd guess." Charley said, "Socialization."

She nodded, "And do you drink?"

"Sometimes too much, often too little." Charley said. This was fun, it was a game.

"Like the best." She said, "I heard you're getting divorced."

"At the tail end of it." Charley said.

"I mean this  _ exactly _ how it sounds but how did any woman ever end up marrying you?"

"I misled her to get back at Frank." Charley said, "we stayed together for the kids."

Gussie hlinked, "Honesty is a policy."

"I've got nothing left to lose." Charley said. "Tell all of L.A. about it."

"When did you meet Frank?" She said.

"13." Charley said, "My mother realized after my bar mitzvah that I had no friends. She wasn't the most aware woman out there, no idea how she didn't notice till then. Decided to take it upon herself to find me one." 

Gussie nodded, "and how'd you stay friends for as long as you did?"

"I'd give him anything he wanted and occasionally got enough good things out of it." Charley said, "I won't tell you specifics until you get some drinks into me."

"Were you on drugs those two nights ago?" She said.

"Not as far as I'm aware." He said. "And I mean that genuinely, Gussie."

"Oh how you remind me of Joe." She said.

_ Joe.  _

_ He'd hanged himself 5 years ago. I spoke at the funeral. _

"Do I?" Charley said.

"Same general fervor." She said, "Yet so.. submissive."

Charley looked down, "Oh?"

"I was only 16 when I met Joe." Gussie said.

"And you married him at 18." Charley said.

"When he was 38." She said.

"Ah how wonderful a cycle like that is." Charley said.

"I'm glad he's dead." She said.

"So am I." Charley said.

_ Silence _ .

"Why would you go back to Chicago?" Gussie said.

Charley took another drag, "One of my brothers and my parents live there."

She nodded then leaned forward, "Stop here." She looked back at Charley, "Don't screw me over, listen to Frank." She handed him a few quarters, "Get out of my car."

She left Charley outside of a closing grocery store with a cigarette and money for the phone. Charley had no idea where he was. Charley was fine with that. He spotted the nearest intersection and called Frank.

"That's- How'd you get to Pasadena?!"

_ Pasadena _ .. Charley had no idea what that was. 

Frank made him ride back to Paramount in the backseat that time around. Like he was a child being punished. Charley felt worse than he had in months. Gussie tended to do that to him. 

"So I was right!" Frank said as they drove, "You don't want to go back to New York because you  _ know _ that you  _ need _ to stay here till you've evened out."

"Mmhm." Charley had been mindlessly agreeing with him since he picked him up.

"Frank's always right." Frank said, "Well, I'm usually not, but in this case I am and you need to listen to me because you're my pal, Charley. Regardless of everything I'm on your side."

_ You say that, Frank, but just you wa _ it.

"Can I call Mary?" Charley said, "When we get back? Not that she'll want to talk to me I just need to hear her voice."

"Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"Because you seem dead set on controlling my every action." Charley said.

"Charley." He said. "Just shut up- if you don't want to think about yourself and your actions then don't talk until you do-."

"I'm in love with you." Charley said.

Frank went silent. Charley enjoyed the peace for the rest of the ride. Except it didn't last all the way. They stopped at a red light and Frank cleared his throat.

And he said, as Charley could see him blinking hard, "Are you still?"

And they were driving again before Charley had the will to speak again, "I am." Charley said.

"I'm sorry." He said, pulling to the shoulder, "About that. About this. About forcing you to stay here."

Charley didn't say anything and Frank began to cry, heavily. He broke down into the heaviest sobs Charley'd ever seen. Charley recognized that emotion. He'd seen Frank like that before. He'd seen Frank break down like that. Charley tried to maneuver himself to the passenger seat but gave up and exited out and back into it instead, grabbing Frank's arm as he sat down.

"I am trying so hard, Charley." He said, "To help you, to help us. Mary's gone and I thought you coming back was a sign that I had to help you because I never ever did and I thought I could do it by putting my foot down and dragging you out of this hole but  _ that's _ never gonna go away is it? I never ever gave you a clear answer and I just kept pushing it and pushing it and no wonder you're like this now. I am just the worst and I can't even give you a straight answer. I just want to be a good person, Charley. I just want to be a good person and a good friend."

Charley nodded. That feeling was familiar.

"I'm supposed to give you a reply but I  _ can't,  _ Charley. I can't tell you if I feel the same or if I ever did because I don't know!" Frank said, "Please, just don't leave. Please, just stay for a little bit longer." 

Charley nodded again and they drove off, Frank still blinking away tears and wiping his face every 30 seconds or so. Charley wanted, more than anything, to go back home. He wanted it to be 1975 again. He wanted to he depressed and at home with his kids and Evelyn and not writing anything of worth and he wanted it to he normal and bland and unfulfilling. 

This was too little and too much.

_ You broke Evelyn's heart and he's too cowardly to break yours. _

_ Just like you were with her's _

_ Just like he's always been. _

Charley wanted to sleep. 

"Frank, I remember who Gregory L is." Charley said, smiling. 

Frank glanced over and back at the door, half returning the smile (still in tears) "yeah?"

"On my way to Detroit I sat next to him and I talked his ear off about nothing, absolutely nothing. I must've went on for 20 minutes about the concept of flight.. and he scribbled that note he gave down onto me as we got off the plane and yet, as I exited the gate he returned to my side and let out a huge sigh." Charley laughed, "and I went home with him." 

" _ You _ .. went home with a complete stranger..?"

"He was a business executive." Charley said. 

"a business executive?! How good looking was this.. person for you to go home with a business executive?!"

"Not even remotely attractive." Charley said. "I was that frenetic."

He laughed but said, "That's sorta sad, Charley."

"But it's funny isn't it?" Charley said, "How weird that is for me."

Frank nodded, "Oohh you're just making it sadder."

"But I'm better off now, aren't I?" Charley said. It was hard to come up with remarks to feed Frank's ego when Charley was so exhausted. "I'm out here with you!" 

"You are." Frank said, "I promise you that." 

The dehydration was really hitting Charley's ability to think, "You're my… hero.. I guess- yeah, that's what you are."

Frank grinned, "Thanks, Charley."

Charley didn't expect to be forced into habit that quickly, but he was. For the rest of the week he woke up the same time, went to sleep the same time, argued with Frank about the same 3 subjects, and ate the same anti-food. Frank didn't seem to know how to cook and he was deadset against Charley buying him actual food or cooking for him. Frank had always been a health nut. He'd stopped smoking before anyone else, he drank lightly, he took health fads to the extreme. he seemed to in other ways still be a health nut. He had a cupboard stacked full of vitamin powders. On the bookshelf he kept books on nutrition and diet and exercise right next to his vast collection of self-help books. They seemed well read.

He stared at them for hours when Frank was gone, thumbing through them. Frank had scribbled in the margins various notes and dates, just as he did with every book he owned. Frank was more inclined to write notes than Charley was at least.

Frank returned when Charley was reading the margins of Mary's book. It was an old copy. First edition. Charley had the same edition on his shelf. He'd made a habit of reading it once a year. Though he told Mary that he'd only read it once. But Frank's seemed to have been read more than once a year, it was extremely beat up, and the back cover had a note written in pencil:

" _ Frank, I cannot thank you enough for borrowing this to me. I am moved. I am changed. I bought my own copy. I wish there were copies small enough to keep in my purse. This is truly a guidebook for life, isn't it? _

_ \- Meg" _

Charley closed the book and placed it on the table. Frank nodded at him and took a seat across from him, running a hand through his hair.

"I should probably get rid of it." Frank said.

"The book?" Charley said.

"Mary's not my friend anymore." Frank said.

"It's a good book." Charley said.

Frank laughed, "Be sure to tell her I still keep it- the first one she gave me, by the way."

Charley laughed, "I don't think she's my friend much anymore either."

"I usually put your plays away." Frank said, "When guests come. It's embarrassing to explain why I kept them." 

"Just go  _ 'oh? These are Kringas plays? I had no idea!' _ " Charley said, "Musical Husband's book.. That one can't be that hard to explain."

"I have a copy of the film's script in my closet, currently." Frank said, "Alongside sweet sorrow."

"It's the newer plays, post you, that I question about." Charley said, "Those two aren't available to buy except for productions. How'd you even get that one? The only scripts that exist of it are the ones made for the production."

"I have ways." Frank said. "I just had to know what you were up to. "

"Did you end up going to any of the shows?" Charley said, "Any of the newer ones?"

"No." Frank said, "You can hide play scripts from Gussie but not trips to New York when your plays just happen to be opening."

"I walked out during intermission of my last one." Charley said, "I'd seen it in rehearsals and I'd sat in during auditions and I'd practically co-directed it and it was a hit and everyone ended up loving it, but I just couldn't stand it."

Frank laughed, "You walked out of your own show."

"I saw someone sneaking in." Charley said, "On my way out. That was the highlight of my day, reminded me of being young. He recognized me, I guess, because when he saw me he went white like he'd seen a cat struck by a car and I simply smiled and held the door for him."

Frank smiled, "I saw you wrote some songs for children's TV."

Charley laughed, "They asked me to go on and be apart of a lesson about wrote and I told them  _ no, I'm never going on television again _ . And then I felt real bad and called them back and said,  _ I'll write you a song. _ "

"Did you end up singing it?" Frank said.

Charley shook his head, "No, the characters did. Or so I heard. It was real simple, embarrassingly so, because music isn't my thing. They ask me every 6 months or so for another song and I give them one. I have an old protesting buddy who works in the writing department. She still wants me to go on and talk directly to the kids about writing."

Frank laughed, "You should. You have the voice for children's television."

"Oh, you're mean." Charley said, "My agent thinks I need a biography. He got me a meeting with a biographer and we both decided that I am both too boring and too secretive."

"My publicist thinks the same." Frank said, "Oh, Frank-lin! Imagine it! Rags to riches, it'd get a film adaption."

"Personally, I'm waiting till after death for any biography on me." Charley said, "Though, I could write a very bland memoir."

"It'd be a paragraph." Frank said.

"I have no fun anecdotes." Charley said, "I was born in Chicago from people who called themselves  _ judios argentinos _ and had no friends, I got married at 19, I wrote some plays. I occasionally had a mental breakdown and ended up in one of my two old friends' living room."

"I don't want a biography or.. anything.. till my father dies." Frank said.

"You're rich enough to get away with murdering him, I'm just saying." Charley said.

Frank cackled, "Charley, you're Terrible."

"Every time I'm in Chicago I think about it." Charley said, "Bludgeoning him to death with a chair."

Frank laughed, "I still get letters from  _ your _ parents at least, via my agent.  _ Franklin, how are you? We hope you're well _ and then they go off about how they saw a film my name was attached to or just about whatever's happened in the neighborhood."

"Do you write them back?" Charley said.

Frank nodded, "Of course.  _ I'm well, Catalina and Emilio."  _ Frank looked away, "Usually include a check for a couple hundred. It's only twice a year so I don't mind the loss."

Charley laughed, "You do know my father still works, don't you?"

"He shouldn't be." Frank said.

"My brothers and I tried to convince him to retire but he's devoted to psychiatry like I'm devoted to writing. Scary." Charley said, "Is your father retired yet? Can't imagine he's working in his health."

"No idea." Frank said, "When  _ he _ writes me I tend to burn the letters."

Charley laughed, "Good."

"He thinks he's entitled to my money." Frank said, "I told him last we spoke that I'd splurge on his funeral if he'd like."

"Splurging on a funeral that no one will attend seems like a waste." Charley said.

"I thought about buying him a plot in an industrial waste dumping site." Frank said.

"That's coincidentally where I'm getting buried." Charley said, "Different reasons though."

"Giving back to the environment. Fantastic cause, Charley." Frank said.

"Going out the same way I came in." Charley said.

Frank laughed.

"I hope my son never hates me as much as you hate your father." Charley said.

"Do you beat your son unconscious if you have more than one drink? Oh and do you attempt to hit his friend with a car on a semi-regular basis?" Frank said.

"Not as far as I'm aware." Charley said.

_ The look of pure horror in his eyes. _

"Well you have it then." Frank said, "you'll be more liked."

"Wonderful." Charley said. "I'll probably lose custody of him regardless."

"Why?" Frank said.

"It's what Evelyn wants." Charley said, "If I fight it she'll probably go for complete termination of parental rights."

"No way she'd get that." Frank said. 

"But she'll try." Charley said, "I wanted partial custody. We agreed on partial custody, the kids wanted partial custody. Considering I raised them, I should probably get full custody but that's a different story."

"You need a better lawyer." Frank said.

"I have a good lawyer I'm just not willing to fight." Charley said, "I made a deal with myself: give Eva everything Eva wants."

"Why?" Frank said, "It's not like you not to argue."

"I want it to go smoothly." Charley said.

"We need to write a show about divorce courts." Frank said. "Now that we both have the experience."

"Aren't you going to at least buy me a drink first?"

Frank laughed, leaning back in his chair, "So you're leaving tommorow.."

"I have to." Charley said, "Finish up this divorce."

Frank sighed, "I liked having you here, you crazy bastard."

"I..  _ can  _ come back." Charley said, "To write a show."

"Two weeks at a time? Every other month or so, if money permits." Frank said. "You  _ could _ get a place out here."

"I can't afford that." Charley said, "I can barely afford my place back in New York and I want to be close to my kids."

"Take them down here for a two week vacation. They're off of school right now, aren't they?" Frank said, "I'll make my assistant bring them all around Socal while we work. Where's the farthest they've been from New York? Chicago? It'd be a thrill for them."

"And then the next time I come down?" Charley said.

"Just a business trip." Frank said, "Stay here with me."

Charley smiled, "I'll think about it- no. Evelyn knows you're down here. She knows I hate California. She knows I love you."

"And that I influence you to make bad decisions?" Frank laughed, "The kids will love it, I swear. Frankie was 14 last time he was up here, my assistant said he had fun."

"I don't know how I'd convince Evelyn." Charley said, "To let me take them. I'm not sure if you can tell, but I'm not someone who most people would trust with their kids."

"Be honest!" Frank said, "Frank's assistant will be taking them while we work."

Charley smiled, "I'll try to figure it out."

"I'll fly you all down if need be." Frank said, "Jesus, I'll fly Mary down too if you want."

"How do you even make your money?" Charley said, "more specific than just exploiting your workers."

Frank rolled his eyes, "I produce film- oh, and I'm going into directing soon enough."

"Aren't you fancy?" Charley said.

"Have you seen any of my films, Charley?"

"I haven't seen a film since.. '74." Charley said.

"Didn't one of your plays get turned into a film last year? What was it _?_ _Signatures of a Friend_?" Frank said.

"I was completely uninvolved." Charley said.

"I saw it." Frank said, "Didn't like it."

"I didn't want it to get a film." Charley said, "it's a very stage heavy show."

"They replaced the drugged up monologue special effects." Frank said.

"Terrible." Charley said, "That monologue was based on my own drugged up scribbles on the back cover of a copy of the Hobbit from '65, you know that?"

"How'd they even get the rights to do it?"

"I had to sell the rights to it in '66." Charley said, "No one wanted to produce it and someone wanted to buy it."

"You should buy the rights back." Frank said.

"believe me, if I had the money I would." Charley said.

"My company could buy the rights. Franklin Shepard produced, get some rinky-dinky studio on board." Frank said, "Make a new film of it. Executive producer Charley Kringas."

"I'd want to write it too." Charley said. "Keep that goddamn monologue." 

Frank sat up, smirking, "it'd be a good reason to fly off to California."

"Oh.. you are sneaky." Charley said, running his hands through his hair and meeting eyes with Frank, "The one way to a man's heart is through the rights to his plays."

Frank laughed, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table, "Good thing to know." 

"Though, if you're trying to flatter me it's going to take more than that." Charley said.

"oh?" Frank said, standing up and walking to the bookshelf.

"A revival of Musical Husbands, I mean." Charley said.

Frank put his hands on Charley's shoulders, "I'd want to choose the director."

Charley looked up at him, "And who would you be thinking of?"

"Oh, you've never heard of him." Frank said, "I can't recall his name.. Charles.. Charles Kringas… yeah that's it."

"Oh you're right, never heard of him." Charley said, "We should get a more well known one."

"Like Franklin Shepard?" Charley said.

"Oh, no we need someone better." Frank said.

"He's probably too busy anyways." Charley said.

"I'm sure we would get at least one of them on board." Frank said, then he made eye contact, leaned down and kissed him.

Charley hadn't kissed anyone like this in half a decade. and Charley enjoyed it. He enjoyed being touched. He enjoyed Frank. It was over before Charley knew it, as if Frank regretted it within seconds. Frank pulled away, pat Charley on the shoulders, and exited into the kitchen.

"Let's celebrate, Charley." He called, "You like a good scotch don't you?"

"I'll say I do." Charley said.

Frank returned with a single glass and a bottle, placing it down on the table. Charley poured himself a drink and sat back. Frank was back at the bookshelf, moving books aside and taking out a tiny box.

"You're not into uppers, right?" Frank said. "Or is that Mary?"

"Never have been, never will." Charley said. "I've already got enough zest for life." 

"Sad." Frank said, opening the box and taking out a little baggy of white powder.

"Jesus Christ, Frank." Charley said.

"That's the entire reason I have this place." Frank said.

"Music and reading and coke" Charley said, "A true artist." 

He put the baggy down on the table, grabbing the phone, "I should call Meg."

"Meg?" Charley said.

"Girl I've been messing around with." Frank said, "You'd love her."

"No doubt in my mind." Charley said.

"Meg.. hi.. how's your… Oh.. Come on.. I have a friend over.." Frank said, "Just the three of us.. Wonderful.. Do you need me to send my driver?... See you in ten.." Frank slammed the receiver down, "Charley, you'll  _ love _ her. She is so smart and creative."

"Let me guess, she's the next big thing?" Charley said.

"She already is the big thing." Frank said.

"Oh, wonderful. I'm thrilled." Charley said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's worth acknowledging that considering historical context, Gussie was most definitely preyed upon in her youth and just generally exploited. Is she a bad person who did also exploited a niave and young Frank? Yes. Is it a cycle of normalization? Also yes.   
> Thanks to the Merrily Discord for discussing that subject whenever we last did. 
> 
> More fun notes:
> 
> Ultimate Charley is gay, Latino, and Jewish. He's all the Charleys in one. 
> 
> And wait you mean to tell me that famous film producers in the 80s who have no meaningful relationships might snort coke? What?
> 
> Alternate title:  
> Frank avoids acknowledging Charley's gayness 
> 
> Alternate title:  
> My name is Charley Kringas, I'm a divorced father of 4, and I have no idea what California is.


	9. So, Old Friends..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley has a realization.

Meg was interesting. Blonde hair, busty, ditzy, overdressed for the weather to avoid being recognized. She entered in, using her own key, and threw herself at Frank. Frank picked her up wedding style and dumped her on the sofa, Charley watching from the piano.

"Meg, this is Charley." Frank said.

Charley raised a hand in greeting.

"Charley, this is Meg." Frank said.

Charley sipped at the drink he'd been working at since he poured it, "How old are you? Or am I not supposed to ask that?"

"She's 23." Frank said.

"Uh-huh." Charley said.

"Charley was my best friend for 21 years." Frank said.

"If you make it a 'is', it's 27." Charley said "Friendship doesn't require talking."

Frank laughed and took a seat next to her, letting her lie down on him, "Isn't he funny?" 

"What do you do?" She asked.

"I'm a writer." Charley said.

"And he sings." Frank said

"So do I!" Meg said.

Frank jumped up, pushing her off, "You two should sing."

"Ah, no." Charley said, "I doubt I know anything she knows and vice versa."

"Good Thing Going." Frank said. "It's what we always do."

Charley looked up, "Oh?"

She stood up and nodded, "I know that one."

"I wrote that one." Charley said.

"Oh, you're  _ that _ Charley." She said.

"I am." Charley said. "At least I think."

Frank got to the piano, nudging Charley.

"It'll be fun." Frank said, "For saving your ass I think I'm owed a song, Charley."

"Frankie, can I have some of your stash?" Meg said.

"Yeah of course." Frank said, "Hurry up though I want you to sing." 

Charley put an arm around Frank and Frank returned the gesture, pulling him close, "Charley, Charley, Charley."

"That's my name." Charley said, "At least last time I checked."

Meg was back up in seconds, wiping her nose with her hand. She grabbed Charley's arm.

"Frank, start it- I don't know if I'll remember the lyrics." She said.

"Neither will I." Charley said.

Frank let Charley go and turned around to face the piano. Charley stood up next to Meg. For a second she reminded him of Gussie, then it hit. She was like Beth.

"It started out like a song..."

Meg was off key. Charley tried to match her.

Frank was playing too fast.

Meg didn't know the lyrics.

Charley wasn't sure where they were, he'd lost count.

The song finished before it should've, Meg bursting into laughter and falling back onto the sofa.

"That was the worst!" She said.

Frank began to laugh too, Charley remained frozen. 

"I wrote that song about you." Charley said.

"Did you?" Frank said, playing the first measure again.

"Yeah." Charley said.

"Cool." Frank said.

Frank didn't care. Meg seemed more wired than Frank. Charley took a seat across from her, watching.  _ Oh, to be young and able to handle stimulants.  _

"Scott and Julia were out last night." She said, "Frankie, they're super into BZP."

_ What the hell is that. _

"You know that's not my thing." Frank said.

"because you're an old man." She said.

Charley stood up, "I have an early flight."

"I am not an old man!" Frank said.

"Compared to her…" Charley mumbled, heading back to the guest room.

The next morning, Charley left early in the morning. Frank and Meg were asleep, mostly undressed, tangled up with each other on the sofa. Charley called himself a cab, quiet. 

The flight was a terrible experience. 6 hours straight of exhaustion. When he got to his gate, he brother was waiting by. 

"Danny." Charley said, "Are you taking the next flight?"

He laughed, "No, I thought you might like a ride home."

"Well you'll be glad to know I wouldn't." Charley said, walking past him.

Danny smiled and followed, "Ah, Charley. As animated as always. You'd think by 40 you'd lose that."

"And you'd think by 49 Danny would've given up on his savior complex." Charley said.

"Lorry's 52 and he hasn't given it up yet." He said.

"Mars is the only reasonable one of you." Charley said.

"And he also doesn't leave the house." 

"That just makes it moreso." Charley said.

He rolled his eyes.

Stuck in the traffic on the way home, Danny finally asked him the question.

"So you just.. dropped Everything and left?" He said.

"Yup." Charley said, "Didn't even pack a bag."

"A lot of time to spend in California." He said.

"I went to Detroit first. " Charley said.

" _ Detroit?" _ He said, "Why?"

"why not?", Charley said, "I screwed a stranger and walked around the city till I passed out on a street corner is that what you want to hear?"

He sighed, "You're terrible, Charley."

"That's actually what I did." Charley said.

"No doubt in my mind." He said.

"I'm good now." Charley said, "Before you ask."

"You're depressed." He said.

"I will be soon enough." Charley said, "But that's why I have a shrink who isn't my brother."

He shook his head, "Charley..."

Charley looked away, "I'll see my doc, I'll see my shrink, I'll call Evelyn, I'll call Lorry and Mars let them know I'm okay."

"Good." He smiled, "That's all I wanted."

"I know." Charley said.

"So are you just saying it to make me happy or do you genuinely mean it?" He said.

"We'll see." Charley said.

He sighed, "Call me, Charley. Bring the kids over sometime."

"Will do." Charley said.

"This is you."

When Charley got to his apartment, the letter and the key had been taken off the door. Charley unlocked and entered in. The lights were on. His plants were healthy. The letters had been taken off the wall and stacked on the desk. Mary sat, legs crossed, glaring at him.

"Mary." He said.

"Charles." She said.

_ She's angry. _

She stood up, "Good to see you." 

"This is embarrassing, but how long was I gone?" Charley said, "I don't know when I left and only know that it's more than a week."

"10 days." Mary said, "Glad I could be of assistance."

Charley stepped forward to hug her and she stepped away. She looked so tired.

"We're not friends anymore Charley." She said, "I hate to do it to you but…  _ lying _ for 21 years..." 

"Mary-"

"And I would've been fine with it all for 21 more years you just had to make sure I saw it." She laughed, "I always defended you from how people talked about you and I don't know why."

"Oh, Mary, come on." Charley said.

"No wonder you went to Frank, you and him are alike." She left.

Charley took a seat. Evelyn. He needed to call Evelyn.

"Evelyn Garfield speaking."

"Evelyn. It's Charley. Can I talk to my son?"

She went silent.

"We need to meet to finalize custody.' she said.

"Tomorrow?" Charley said, "If I can get my lawyer."

"Yes." Evelyn said, "That'll work."

"Wait." Charley said, " What's your plan? What do you want? I might not even bring my lawyer if I know I'll agree to it."

"I want sole physical custody, split legal custody." Evelyn said.

"Visitation?"

"Reasonable visitation" she said, " The kids are old enough."

"Okay." Charley said, "You have this all written up?" 

"Yes."

"When's your lunch break?" Charley said, "Tomorrow, I mean."

"2:30."

"I'll be there to sign."

"Okay. Have a good night, Mr. Kringas."

"You too, Ms. Garfield." Charley said.

She hung up.

It didn't make any sense. None of it made sense. He had spent 16 of his life being the parent who cared for the kids and yet, Evelyn saw him as nothing more than half their DNA. He'd been the one at home. He'd been the one who consoled them after fights with friends. 

_ You should've stayed in LA. _

Mary was gone, Frank was far away, the kids were hardly his anymore, and he'd put himself in the situation. 

_ What wrong turn did you take to get here? If you'd just kissed her back, you'd be at home with your kids, working on your next play, sitting with Mary on the weekends. Why'd you put yourself in this situation? And why were you able to play along for the first seven years of your marriage? It wasn't that miserable. What changed?  _ What changed?  _ Did I change? _

_ Frank's just as bad as the rest of them. _

_ What made Frank the way Frank was? _

_ There was no way Gussie made him happy. _

_ There was no way Meg made him happy. _

"Franklin Shepard speaking."

"What's the point of even trying with you? You'll do anything to appear normal."

"Bad flight, Charley?"

"You know it's not normal in any other social circle, right?. She's only a few years older than your son."

"Charley-"

"I am  _ begging _ you to think about your actions. You should be nothing more than her mentor." Charley said. "10 years ago you'd find it disgusting-"

"Why are you attacking me?!"

"Because I'm not going to be an accomplice in this again!" Charley said. "THINK about yourself, Frank. THINK ABOUT YOUR ACTIONS!"

"Call me tomorrow, pal." Frank hung up.

Charley slammed the receiver down and poured himself a drink. Halfway done with it, he picked it up, and chucked it with all his strength and it shattered and went everywhere. He stood there in it before moving half of it to the side with his foot and sitting down right in the middle of it.

Frank had always been at least little occupied with what was right. It took convincing, and Charley was never quite sure whether or not he actually believed the things Charley attempted to reach him. He'd never been interested in any of the protests, even the mild ones where even Charley could avoid getting beat, only coming to two throughout all the 60s and 70s.  _ Physical violence makes me sick _ he'd say when Charley'd get back to their apartment with a busted lip. He wasn't very interested in what Charley had to say about it. He'd nod and listen and compliment Charley's many essays about the subject, but never attempt to argue based on the text alone. It was only when Charley'd say it in public that Frank would get heated. First he'd try to shut Charley up, then he'd begin to bicker, then he'd shut down and next thing you know they were shouting each other down till one or the other gave up.

"I'm thinking of going into early retirement. If I sell all my '50%'s and put them into savings, I should be well off enough to. It's not a matter of not finding joy in it, because I love writing, it's a matter of self reflection. Everything else has changed. I'm finally reaching peak Charley, a new Charley. And the way to get there I think is a complete change. Uproot and find something new. I've never lived in the countryside, so I'm stirring over it. Mary's gone, the kids aren't interested in seeing me, I've got nothing. And if that's all gone, writing needs to go with it." Charley said to his psychiatrist the next day following a large conversation about the past 11 days, "And I know that's avoidant, isn't it? I'm avoiding facing my shitty life. But I'm tired of being here, I'm tired of thinking there's potential to it. The slightest change in pace messes me up for months and I'd rather be in control of those changes of pace instead of them just randomly happening."

"They're not random. You are getting consequences for your actions, Charley. Let's look at it from Mary's point of view."

Charley adjusted in his seat, "Oh, I love this exercise. If I were Mary and my best friend disappeared for 10 days and revealed to me that he's been in love with the same person I was and also hid his general bitterness from me, I'd be upset-- Doctor, it's not a matter of her being upset. I don't care about that, I care that she's gone."

"Perhaps your lack of care about the former causes the latter."

"Maybe that's true." Charley said, "I'm not saying I'm not complicit in my own misery."

"But you're not saying that you  _ are _ complicit either." 

Charley glanced out the window, "Do you think I am?"

"Yes. I do."

"You're probably right." Charley said, "I just don't know if I can say it. Admitting that means that this is all my fault and.. even if I did what I did in the past out of good intentions or desperation, it still led me here. And they're out weighed by the choices done without good intentions and desperation- It is.. done with. Isn't it? This part of my life. I need to stop living there, and I need to stop living even further back. I need to move on."

His voice went gentler than it usually was, "Mary will not be coming back. You will never be married to Evelyn again."

"There's no point in reveling in nostalgia." Charley said, "Or waiting to be saved."

"I think that's the correct conclusion."

Later, Charley found himself in Evelyn's office. Her name hadn't been changed on her name plate yet.

Evelyn Kringas

Director Of Fundraising

She entered in and handed him a stack of papers, taking a seat. 

"Just as we discussed." She said.

Charley thumbed through it, trying to find the places he needed to sign, "How are the kids?" He said, signing one of the pages.

"Concerned that their father disappeared." She said.

"It was better that I was gone." Charley said, signing another.

"Don't make it a habit." She said.

"I don't plan to." Charley said, signing the final line, "Can I bring them to LA with me next month?"

"LA as in Los Angeles?" She said.

"I'm going down there anyways, thought they might like to go. They've never been there." Charley said.

"Shepard?" She said.

"They'd be staying in a hotel." Charley said.

"I knew I shouldn't of sent him your way." Evelyn said, sighing, "Call the kids and ask them if they're interested."

Charley handed her the packet and stood up, lifting a hand out to her to shake. They shook hands and she nodded.

"Have a good afternoon Mr. Kringas." she said.

"You as well, Ms. Garfield." Charley said.

When he got home, he half hoped that Mary would be standing outside his door waiting for him. She wasn't. He wouldn't push it.  _ If she won't see me, I won't see her _ . 

_Complicit in your own misery._ _Did you mean to say complacent? No. It was both._

_ I am more complicit than I am complacent.  _

_ You are completely complicit  _ **_and_ ** _ completely complacent in your misery. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you hate it when you ruin every relationship you have :/ lame


	10. Nothing Wrong With Wanting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Charley attempt to communicate.

"Los Angeles is the largest city on the west coast." Frank's assistant said as Charley and the kids sat backed in the backseats of a car much too nice for them, "You'll be staying at the biggest hotel right in central LA."

"On your Uncle Frank's dime." Charley mumbled.

The kids hadn't spoken to him since the airport, and even then it was just answering questions with "yes" or "no" or "that's fine"

His son was even less interested, unwilling to look him in the eye, nodding or shaking his head instead of speaking. 

The girls were especially excited, bright eyed and jittery. Asking the poor assistant, who'd yet to tell them her name, a million questions every few moments.

"Is this your first time out of.. uhm.. New York?" She said.

"No." His son piped up, "We've been to Chicago and Cape Cod a few times."

"Oh, I love Chicago." The assistant said, then she went quiet for a while. Then she said, "Mr. Kringas, and not to embarrass you in front of your kids, but I've always been such a fan of your work."

"Thank you." Charley said, "You can call me Charley by the way, the only people who call me Mr. Kringas seem to be the madame Shepard's themselves."

The room, like everything else that Frank had set up, was much too nice for them. The kids had individual rooms. It was larger than any apartment Charley had seen, let alone a hotel room. Charley gave the porter a tip that he probably couldn't afford for having to listen to the kids excitedly ask him about his entire life story, which he half-heartedly did.

Once the kids were settled down, the assistant sat with Charley on the balcony, watching down over the street for the driver to return. Charley wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She had just told him to sit tight for a bit. 

He still held his typewriter in his lap, as he had been even on the plane. He'd had it for a very long while, almost 27 years. Charley hated bringing it out nowadays, though he'd lugged it with him practically everywhere from 1953 to 1967. It had been a gift from an uncle long since dead. Bringing it out risked it getting damaged, but he also wrote the best on it.

The assistant cleared her throat and stood up, straightening out her skirt, "I think the city is best in July."

"I think it's the most uncomfortable." Charley said, "Am- am I supposed to tip you? Because I will. You've been doing a good job." Charley was never sure how to talk to people Frank declared his underlings. 

She shook her head, "No." Then she turned and looked inside, "He should be here."

Frank was waiting in the lobby. Smiling, face lit up. Frank was a naturally  _ summer _ person. He had the build for short, tight fitting, sleeves that showed off his biceps and could pull off three unbuttoned buttons without it looking tacky. He only seemed to get into better shape as he got older.. And while Frank never wore shorts, Charley knew he had nice legs. They'd be better if he didn't wear khakis, but Charley could only ask for so much and besides, his ankles were enough to hint. Charley tried not to focus on them.

The moment he saw Charley he practically jumped on him, smothering him in a hug.

"Gee, Frank, it's only been a month." Charley laughed, pulling free.

Frank turned to the assistant, keeping his hand on Charley's shoulder.

"Operate as we planned- feed them if they ask, on my card, make sure you eat too- call me before you leave and I'll make sure to get you the car." He said, "You're an angel, Maggie."

She nodded, "Yes, Mr. Shepard." Then she turned and went back the way they came.

"What does that mean?" Charley said.

"I presumed you'd want to stay with me tonight, she's good with kids- Jesus you still have that old thing?" Frank laughed, snatching the typewriter in its case out of his hand and feeling it's weight.

"I write best on it." Charley said, taking it back.

"Let's get back to Paramount before traffic hits, eh?" Frank said.

Charley'd forgotten how it felt to be watched. As they exited, someone with a camera was up Frank's face.

"Are you reconnecting with--"

Frank did his perfect smile and walked past them, grabbing Charley's wrist.

"No comment." Frank said.

Charley wanted to give them a wave but he was halfway into the vehicle before he realized. He shut the door behind him and looked over at Frank, he was instructing the driver. Then he slid the privacy barrier and shot Charley a grin.

"So, how's New York?"

"What kind of question is that?" Charley said.

"I don't know." He laughed, "I'm just so thrilled to have you here."

"I was here a month ago." Charley said.

"And you weren't exactly you." Frank said, rubbing his hands together, "So what do you have for me?"

"You'll see." Charley said, "But you're only getting one of my developed works if you play your cards right, Frank."

"I'm sure I will." Frank said, "Best get the bad ones off the table now."

Charley shifted, "what do you mean?"

"Gussie wants you and your kids to come to a dinner she's throwing tomorrow evening." He said, "It's formal, it's stuffy, it's just what we have to do. She's the one who got them into that place, and her driver is the one who took you from the airport."

Charley sighed, "Fine."

"I told Mags to bring them out to get some nice clothing- on my card of course." He said, "I made Gussie promise to be nice to you, and them."

Charley put an arm around him, "So.. question.."

"Yes?" Frank said.

"Why does she want me there?" Charley said.

"Your name." Frank said, "You are the hottest playwright out there."

Charley laughed, "You're flattering- but what about the kids?"

"The kids of some big director are going to be there and she wants to impress him by making sure his kids have someone to talk to." Frank said, laughing, "I don't know how she went some despising you to finding you fantastic so quickly, but it's a relief."

"I think it's because of something starting with a P and ending with a -ulitzer." Charley said.

"Maybe she just likes you for you!" Frank said, his hand was on Charley's back.

"Quick note, before I forget, Let's limit the cocaine use." Charley said.

"I can assure." Frank said.

There was a long moment of complete silence from both of them.

"You.. didn't have to do this." Charley said, "I was more than fine with stuffing all of us into a motel 6."

"I'm showing you that I care." Frank said.

"You don't have to bankrupt yourself for that." Charley said. "You know how I feel about money."

Frank's other hand was resting on Charley's thigh.

"Come on  _ Charley _ , just take what I'm giving you." Frank said. "I wanna do something open ended and fluid, music wise."

"Wonderful." Charley said, "We'll discuss it by the piano." Charley held Frank's hand where it was.

"It's an honor to be writing with you again." Frank said.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Charley said. "If something doesn't click, we shouldn't force it."

"Of course." Frank said, shifting away from him. 

"Same with everything else." Charley said.

Frank nodded.

"Don't go quiet on me." Charley said.

"I'm thinking." Frank said.

"How's therapy going?" Charley said, "If you've stuck with it."

"I don't know why I avoided psychiatry for this long." Frank said, "I don't know no one convinced me before."

"Well, I tried..repeatedly.. but you aren't the best listener." Charley said. "What's on with that girl… what's her name? Meg?"

"...Let's just say she's out of commission."

"She's not dead is she?" Charley said.

"No. Just can't do much acting at the moment." He said, "It's over, if that's what you're asking."

_ What does that even mean? _

Charley nodded, "And how's Gussie?"

"She's fine." 

"Wonderful." 

Frank put his hand on Charley's shoulder, "it's weird seeing you as a single. I just can't see it. You are just incredibly.. married looking."

"Nice way to call me a square." Charley said.

Frank laughed, "What can I say?" He reached over and snatched Charley's glasses from his face, "Have you had the same frame since '61?"

"No?" Charley said.

"Same style." Frank said, "thin's what in nowadays."

"You know.. as long as I can see I don't really care." Charley said, snatching them back.

Frank grinned and pat his shoulder.

"If you can limit the snide comments about by pathetic existence I'd appreciate it." Charley said, leaning on him, "Just a request."

Frank moved his hand and put his arm around Charley, rubbing his arm "Fine, fine. Don't let me bother you."

The car pulled up into the driveway and the two got out. As they entered, Frank back to bubbly again, he turned and pulled Charley in, pinning him against the door, one hand fiddling with Charley's zipper, the other attempting to untuck his shirt. For a moment, it was all fine and it was like they were both 19 again but right as Frank's hands got more steady and he was successful in untucking Charley's shirt, and Charley was almost enjoying how much better he'd become at kissing, nerves struck him and guilt began to visualize behind his eyes. Charley nudged Frank away with his free hand, clearing his throat. Frank stepped back, going red.

"Was.. I misreading you? I know it's been a couple  _ decades _ but I thought-" Frank said.

"You're married." Charley said.

"What does- It's  _ different  _ when it's you-" Frank was flustered, "Nevermind. Music. Music. Let's play some music."

_ It's different?! _

"I agree." Charley said.

_ It's DIFFERENT?! _

Frank was playing something new. It was too slow and dull. Frank seemed excited about it, occasionally going "this next bit is my favorite" or "You'll love this."

Charley wondered if Frank had been playing multiple smaller songs instead of one large song but he couldn't be bothered to ask. Eventually, he stopped and grinned up at him.

"So how does that sound work?" 

Charley sighed, "It's alright." Charley placed the typewriter down and popped the case, taking it out alongside the draft of the _ Confession _

"This is a series of vignettes.. monologues and duologues.. tied around a core theme." Charley said, "I don't.. want to fuck it up with music but it's the only thing I have in my mind."

Frank took it, flicking through the pages "We could turn it into an opera."

Charley took a seat, nodding, "Interesting idea." 

Frank's face was twisting into looks of horror and confusion as he read. He placed it down and looked over.

"What?" Frank said.

"What?" Charley said.

"What does any of that mean?" Frank said. 

"It's experimental.. it's weird." Charley said.

"It's completely incomprehensible." Frank said.

"We're at the point in our careers where we can get away with completely incompressible." Charley said.

Frank's face lit up again, "I love it."

Charley tried not to grin, "Should we draft our contract?" 

Frank stood up, "I will get in contact with my lawyers tomorrow."

Charley grinned, "don't screw me over."

"I won't." Frank said. "I'm going to make sure of it."

"You're really big on this  _ good person _ thing, aren't you?" Charley laughed.

"How'd you know?" Frank said, taking a seat next to him, "I'm happy we can be friend again."

"Well, we could've been friends many years ago." Charley said, "All you had to do was give me a call."

"Yeah but that doesn't matter much now." Frank said, "Now is now."

"The past will always be apart of the present." Charley said, "You are.. so upbeat."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Mope around?" Frank said, "If I'm upbeat, I won't be nearly as sad as I probably should be."

"You think you should be sad?"

"Not when you're here." He said, "You're hope."

"I'm hope?" Charley said.

"That everything can come back into place." Frank said. "And if I have you, I have hope."

The guilt that had visualized behind Charley's eyes became a different type of guilt and Charley leaned close to Frank again, running his hands through Frank's hair.

"Do you dye your hair?" Charley said, quiet.

"I don't like looking old." Frank said, "I've been greying since 26."

Charley chuckled, "You'd look good with grey hair."

"Mmmm, maybe someday." Frank said, "I like looking how I look. I go out of my way to look the way I do."

When they were young adults, Charley had been the one who tried to dress nice. It wasn't a natural skill from him, he didn't follow trends. And Charley'd never been able to figure out the real rules he was supposed to know how to abide to. He was awkward, out of place,  _ effeminate _ . He didn't get it _.  _ Putting in too much effort was bad and so was just being who we normally was.  _ Thin and short and limp-wristed.  _ Frank would frown, when they'd go out, and make a half-hearted comment about Charley being too prissy for his own good. And even before then, Frank's father had despised his more sensitive qualities, mumbling obscenities under his breath whenever Charley was around. Charley'd learned pretty early on that trying never got him anywhere but worse off. And Charley knew it was obvious, to anyone who saw him especially back then. It had been a long time coming and Charley had only made it harder on himself. 

_ Who's prissy now? _

Charley tried not to despise Frank for it. His ability to find the perfect middle ground. Charismatic and nice looking  _ and _ straight.  _ That _ was something they needed to discuss. 

Frank left and returned with a glass of champagne for them each.

"To writing." He said, sitting down and handing Charley his glass.

Charley took it, not drinking, and watched him for a while as he relaxed, grinning. He was at ease. Frank was so good at being at ease. It wasn't fair. 

"Frank." Charley said, finally taking a sip and trying not to wince at the taste. Wording was hard. "You do know I'm.. gay, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being jealous of your friend's ability to be externally charismatic, well liked, and confirming is how you become a writer. 
> 
> Alternate title:  
> Frank's middle name is "cognitive dissonance"


	11. Unwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley and Frank spend some time together.

Frank took a deep breath, like he was preparing to say something that he didn't want to say. His face dulled and he leaned away from Charley, digging his fingers into the arm rest. He clapped and looked over at Charley, grinning.

"Do you want to hear something else I wrote recently?"

Charley knew he didn't have much of a choice and just sat back, watching him rise and go to the piano. Charley felt like someone was standing on his chest, or like he was getting squeezed from every angle. Frank played one note and then stopped, slamming the keys and standing back up.

"Charley, I'm sorry." He said, "I just.. can't talk about  _ that.. _ subject."

"I understand, I guess." Charley said.

He went silent and walked to the bookshelf, taking down Mary's book.

"How is she?"

"I have no idea." Charley said, "We're not friends anymore."

He held the book against his chest, sighing, "You gotta-"

"What do I  _ have _ to do, Frank?" Charley said, "I'm not one to force things."

"You'd break your own back for her." Frank said.

"I would of." Charley said, "But I don't want to anymore. She's got all reason in the world to hate me."

"No, she's got all reason in the world to hate  _ me _ ." Frank said.

Charley took a stack of papers out of his coat pocket and put them on the table, "There is  _ nothing _ ." 

"What are those?"

"Letters I wrote to you." Charley said. "'57 to '74.."

Frank sat down and began looking through them, then he stopped and sighed and shook his head.

"I won't let you do this to yourself- I won't let you do this to me! Put those back in your coat." He stood up and went back to his piano, "Let's  **_write_ ** !"

And so they did just that.

The next day, they all stood (dressed nicely and bright eyed) in Frank's living room. 

Charley's son sat on the sofa, not willing to make eye contact with anyone in the room as Frank's assistant attempted to ask the girls why they were bickering. (Charley'd figured it out a long time ago but he'd let her figure it out on her own time) Frank stood near Charley, on the phone about something or other. He stopped and hung up the receiver then looked at his assistant.

"The drive will get you and the kids and Charley and I will just take my car." He said.

The assistant nodded, "Noted."

"And the driver should be outside right now." Frank said..

"Be on your best behavior." Charley said, "If anything, for uncle Frank's sake."

The kids collectively sighed, "Yes, Dad." as the assistant rounded them up and brought them out the door. 

When the door closed Frank let out a sound and then laughed, "Weird kids, Charley. No offense."

"They take after their mother on the spectrum of strange." Charley said, "Which is a much better thing than if they took after me."

Frank laughed, "Come on, let's go."

Charley felt nauseous as they drove. Frank's hand occasionally reaching over and touching his leg and going back to the wheel.

They seemed to be driving for a while. Cities became neighborhoods which began to get more sparse and dried out and the modern California design turned to old and rackety houses and apartments. Charley glanced over.

"Where are we going?" Charley asked.

"You finally noticed?" Frank said, "I know you hate Gussie, so we're putting it off for a bit." He pulled into the oversized parking lot of a rinky little movie theatre, as far as he could from anything or anyone else.

"It's the only way  _ I  _ can deal with Gussie too." Frank said, taking out a bottle of something from the glove box, "You have no idea."

He handed Charley a single pill then poured himself a handful. Charley reached over and grabbed Frank's wrist.

"I have a high tolerance."

"If my 20s taught me anything its that you should never take a handful of any pills." Charley said. "What even is this?"

"Librium." Frank said.

Charley downed his single pill, "Librium? What year is it?" 

"It's all I could get a prescription for." Frank said, pouring half his handful back into the bottle then downing one of the left over pills at a time, "You know what then say. Coke for the day, librium for night."

"I think you might be the only one who's ever said that." Charley said, laughing, "If you get too out of it, just know I can't drive."

Frank put his seat back, "I told my driver to come down here and get us as soon as he dropped the kids and Maggie off."

"Oh, so this was planned?" Charley said, "What about your car?"

"I can afford to pay it when it gets towed." Frank said.

Charley shifted, "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, charley, I can't deal with Gussie." Frank said, "I do this whenever I have to play as her loving and supportive husband- and you know what she's going to talk about? What she's going to bring up? How badly she wants a baby. She's so set on it. She says to me whenever we talk  _ I only have a few more years left and of you're staying, I want a baby.  _ I  **don't** want another kid, Charley."

"Frank-"

"I never wanted children, Charley." Frank said, "I'm not father material. I love my son but I wish to God that he was never born. I can't fathom much better off I'd be if I'd used a rubber."

Charley went silent.

"Do you regret your kids, Charley, at all?"

Charley shook his head, "The girls were planned. There was nothing more I wanted out of life than having kids."

"And your youngest?"

"He.. wasn't planned but I'd never say I regret him." Charley said, "I shouldn't of been a father either but it's not their fault." 

Frank sighed, "I feel like a real piece of shit."

Charley reached over and held his arm, "You probably are."

"Thanks, Charley." Frank grumbled.

"We both might be." Charley said.

"Maybe." Frank said, closing his eyes, "Keep your hand where it is. It feels good to be touched."

Charley chuckled and closed his eyes as well. He'd always been so sensitive to librium, he'd been given it it occasionally throughout the years whenever Mary thought he was too on edge. Drowsiness set in and he stared up at the ceiling. The guilt behind his eyes was strong.  _ Why are you doing this to him _ ? 

_ If you weren't so dulled out, it'd be the perfect time for a walk. _

_ I'm so tired of walking. _

"Why can't you drive?" Frank said after a while.

"I lost my license in '78 and never bothered to get a new one when I next could." Charley said, "Didn't drive much then either."

"How did someone as good as you get your license taken away?"

"I got pulled over and denied to take a sobriety test." Charley said, "I  _ was _ sober, I just hate cops." 

Frank laughed, "Charley!"

It was clear that Frank had probably taken more than he could handle. He was dull, mumbling to himself, taking slow breaths and staring up into space.

"I hate cars." Charley said, "In general, I am not the biggest fan." 

Frank closed his eyes and reached over, grabbing Charley's hand.

"I've fallen in love with you." He said.

Charley knew he wasn't going to ever say that again. Charley knew that it had been took quick and that Frank only enjoyed the validation that Charley brought him. Charley knew that it was just how open calmness could make one feel. Yet he nodded and held Frank's hand to his chest.

"And I the same to you." Charley said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Charley you stupid stupid bitch


	12. Letters Pt. 1

Frank, 

It's been 3 days. I can't thank you enough for taking me in like this. I've tried to and I probably will still try. The other option wasn't the best, I don't really think Chicago is the place for me (especially if you won't be there) and I probably shouldn't of dropped out in the first place but the past is the past and I'm going into better things.

I thought yesterday, as I exited from an interview, that maybe you are repaying me for convincing my parents to let you stay over night after night. That's not entirely fair, but I'll accept it.

I can hear you talk in your sleep through the wall every other night and I like listening to it. You don't say anything coherent but I like the sound. Your voice is wonderful. I wish you'd talk in your sleep now, I guess you're too tired. I wish you'd sing more. You always tell me to sing more but I want you to sing. I wish I could just hear you sing every moment of my day.

Speaking of singing, I have three words stuck in my head: Good Thing Going.

Your arms are pretty nice too. You are lying right next to me and I can feel your leg sorta weaved between mine. That woke me up.

but I'm awake and looking at your arms. They're just nice. Like a statue's arms. I don't want to touch you because you'll need to be up in a few hours and you'll be tired enough without me bothering you anymore. Goodnight.

Frank, 

I never appreciate you enough. I feel terrible and you made me feel okay! That's not normal for me! I still feel terrible.

Frank,

I am debating slipping this one under your door so you see it in the morning. What happened tonight still has me shaking, whenever I close my eyes I see it again. Please please don't make me wrestle it out on your arms again.. 

Frank,

No wonder she broke up with you. No.. that's mean. But it's true.

Frank,

I'm asking my Dad to borrow some money to see a shrink again. I wish you'd do the same, I feel so sick seeing you like this. 

Frank, 

This one  _ will _ be for you, I promise.

Thank you for the burnt toast and eggs this morning. I really enjoyed it, the gesture. I think they were supposed to be not burnt but if they were I enjoy the gesture nonetheless. 

Frank, 

I swear eventually you'll see one of these. I keep becoming a coward and locking them away. Someday you'll come in here and knock them off the shelf and you'll see them then, at least that's what I hope. Eventually!

Frank,

I really really do wish you'd let me get some sleep, keeping me up like this through the wall is making me so nervous. 

Frank,

I hate parties. I met a girl, Lynn or something, who Mary thinks is just like me. She's into politics but not art. I am bored. I am pretty bored with Mary too. I wish she'd just leave me alone but she never will. I guess I can sympathize. I'd be just like her, all friendless, if I didn't have you. She's funny but that's about it. I think she might be gay.

Frank, 

Thank you for getting me back safe last night. Sometimes I wonder how you haven't ended up killing me for all the garbage I pull.

Frank,

My brother stopped by today. You just missed him and I'm so sad! He always liked you. I remember a few years ago, you'd just went home and I was sitting downstairs next to him and he said "Charley, you don't have many, but you got good ones." And that's funny to me because I only had one friend, which was you.

Frank, 

I am so LONELY. In other news, Mary does have friends. She has so many friends, and it's very  _ annoying _ . I have never met a group of people that I fit in with less. Good thing that Mary's fun to have around sometimes. They're all young couples who want to get married.

Frank,

Another letter with you right next to me. I am living life on the edge. I think you noticed tonight. Is it concerning when I get like this? I hope I don't scare you. I still can't sleep though. 

Frank, 

I hate the look you give me when you're disappointed. It's not like a look a parent gives you, it's like one a stranger gives you, like I crushed your dreams for the day. 

Frank,

Me and Mary and that Lynn (Apparently: Evelyn) went out tonight. I wish you went with us, I was thinking of you all night. Mary is expecting that I hit it off with this girl. 

Frank,

No matter what it seems, I don't need to start anything with her. My parents were just getting concerned.  _ Charley, why do you avoid women like the plague? It might be good for you to have a girl around! _ I think you know that though. At least that's what I'm getting from it, you'd not be like this.

Frank,

I can't understand why she doesn't like you. You don't have standards that are this high, why does she? If you're capable of being nice to her why isn't she capable of being nice to you? Maybe she knows...

Frank, 

Whenever she and I go out I want to ditch her and change my name and leave the country. It's so uncomfortable. I'm uncomfortable. My skin doesn't feel like my own skin.

Frank,

Are you embarrassed by me? I think about that daily. I hope you're not.

Frank, 

Someday I'll show these  _ all _ to you. A prize to it! I shouldn't worry about it, about showing you the individual. I still will. 

Frank,

I can't even say that word around you without you finding a reason to change the subject. Of course. OF COURSE. You need to keep your options open.

Frank,

I'm going to say it up front you to you.

Frank, 

You're turned the other way and I'm going to say it. I'm going to. No more mixed signals, you need to give me a yes or a no.

Frank,

Thank you for that! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I'm going to cry! I hate you! Thank you. 

Until you say it there's no point to it.

Until you say it I'm going to do anything but you!

I don't know how I'm supposed to flirt with women.

Mary and I do not fit, at all, not even as companions. I think she might know! Another thing we can blame on you, surely.

Frank,

She is so smart

She's not for me.

Frank,

I'm going to marry her. I asked her today, and she stepped back and laughed because we haven't known each other for that long and I asked again and then she nodded. 

Frank, 

You have a final chance.

Frank, 

Please. The wedding is getting scheduled! I can cancel it right now! I can call her up and tell her I've changed my mind! 

Frank,

You can't just do this. You can't just act like this is all fake. This has real impacts on  _ me _ . Do you even realize that I'm real? I don't even know if I am. You have a chance. You asked for it. I gave it to you. You did not take it! That doesn't make any sense to me. You pull me away to  _ kiss me _ but when I take the signs and grab everything we need and say that we can leave whenever we want, that I have all my savings out in cash and that we could leave if you just say the words, you go  _ oh, Charley, you're getting married! _ I don't even want to get married! You know that! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm so lonely and unhappy and you're just sulking off to the side like this is hurting you more than it's hurting me! You are so obsessed with this musical thing that I'm being forced to do this for you. Why can't we just adjust it? Why do we have to do everything by plan? This wasn't in  _ my _ plan but it was in yours so I have to play along. I'm doing exactly what  _ you _ need  _ me _ to do. But I think if you'd just budge on this one thing we could be something else, we could still find our way to music, it just wouldn't be here. It could be out in the middle of the midwest, playing our songs to people in bars. It could be in Michigan for 3 months as we do a show and then in Idaho next. You are so fixated on this that you won't look around you and see that we have other options. We  _ can _ be together. We  _ can _ share our music.

I  _ hate _ this city, I  _ hate _ my family, I  _ hate _ this girl, I  _ love _ music and I  _ love _ writing and I  _ love _ you.

I pitched it to you and you turned it down.

And you're gonna regret that and I'm going to regret this stupid marriage. You don't even have to say that you want to go you could just tell me not to do this.

But you won't!! You never will!!!

You couldn't care about me if you were forced to!! No one does! Everyone knows it's crazy! Everyone knows that I shouldn't do this! But no one is willing to say it! And if I say it I'm getting cold feet. I'm cornered.

I know you'll probably never see this letter, unless I gain an ego the size of Alaska by tomorrow night. 

Goodnight.

Frank,

It has been a while, hasn't it?

Beth's a good girl. She's fun to work with. I think I make her uncomfortable though. Maybe she's just naturally uncomfortable? I think I'm naturally uncomfortable too, but she's worse than me. I hugged you today and she shot me a look of shock and horror. What did you tell her? Or am I just apparent? Not to bring him up, but your dad always thought I was apparent. Anyways, it's like you don't realize that I can tell when you've fallen for someone. But  _ her _ ? Really? She's the most run of the mill girl I've ever met.

If you want simple and down to earth, Mary's right there.

Frank, 

Best man is an understatement, isn't it? Frank, it made me  _ cry _ . When I got home tonight, Evelyn said that I looked like you'd died. I knew I was crying, I could feel my eyes aching, but I thought it was that mild tear-falling-down-your-cheek type of crying but it was actually that ugly type of crying where your face gets all scrunched up.

You know I don't believe marriage is a death sentence, but that's what it felt like. 

Mary was crying too. I tried to console her but neither of us are very good at that. Oddly enough, though I didn't say it, we were crying over the same thing.

Frank, 

Evelyn is wild.

I am so tired.

And uncomfortable.

Nauseous.

The only fun we have together is taking whatever garbage our friends' give us and living on the thrill of risking it. 

I feel like we can't stand to be around eachother, the same with Mary, so we either have to get drunk or drugged up to keep our marriage together. It's the string that keeps the roast together.

Frank,

Franklin Shepard the fourth, now that's something I never saw coming. You hated your own name because it was your dad's and you gave it to your son? Poor thing. I hope you give him a nickname.

Frank,

Whenever Evelyn and I stop by she says I get that wide eyes giddy look. I love kids. I hope Beth liked the things we bought her, I had to call my brother and ask what newborns need. Evelyn said today on our way home that she doesn't want kids. I just nodded and said that it's alright and she has a career and stuff that she needs to focus on. I took a walk to think through it so that I don't get mad at her. I'm writing this because I think I've made a mistake. 

Frank,

Never do that again. For that matter, no more parties! At least with Mary's friends she doesn't force me to be her little show dog. The dog comparison is accurate, at least I think. I'm practically on a leash, since you keep me not too close but not too far. And you try to keep me from barking he best you can. What's next? A shock collar. I'm not much of a hunting dog, Frank.

Frank,

Evelyn is crying next to me. I'm not trying to console her. You see Frank, apparently I'm  _ harsh _ . I don't try to be. But apparently I snap at her too much. 

I feel bad.

I've sorta given up on being bitter, I think that I am satisfied with what I have. I can't do anything to change it, and it's not all that bad. I feel safer and I really always have a friend around. Maybe psychotherapy works and this is all over. I'd rather be happy like you are then miserable, because there's really no other way for me to even get close to happy. Either turn I take, I'll end up the same way eventually. 

I sorta think I'm going a bit loopy. I tried to bring it up to you tonight but you wanted to write, so I dropped it. My shrink says that I'm fine, but I wake up every morning with intense dread in my stomach and usually spend the first half-hour of the day trying to convince myself that I can handle another day.  _ I can. I always will be able to. If you use your skills the day will go great. _

Something bad is going to happen and I just hope you'll be there for me. 

Evelyn and I are discussing children again, before the dullness gets too overwhelming and all passion she has for me dries up. That's probably the only thing Evelyn and I would ever stay together for.

Frank,

Evelyn is pregnant! We're still worried about a miscarriage that's why I haven't told you. You'll know what happened there by the time you get this. I gave myself a date to hand these into you: December 28th 1979. I know Beth and you aren't doing the best, you gotta stop getting so worked up over it, just play along. Fights are easy to avoid, just decline to take your own side. The temporary problems that causes for you are nothing compared to the long term ones that arguing back will cause. I seem to have learned that before you but you'll come through, you were always the one who could handle it.

I know that you're expecting me to step in and save you, but I can't. Whenever you two fight in public and you get all embarrassed I try to keep you calm but I don't have the answers Frank, im just as lost as you are. 

I admire your confidence. No wonder everyone's swooning for you! Just try to keep yourself on track, for Frankie.

Frank,

I was going to apologize, but I don't think the screaming I did warranted a response like that.  _ Frank _ , I get that you are not in the best place right now but if you ever do that again, it's over. If you even try to, it's over. Beth's worth a lot more than that, and so am I, I think. 

I wish you didn't hate psychiatrists.

Frank,

The doctors said we're going to have triplets. We only have the budget for one kid. I'm so nervous, I don't know how we're going to handle this at all. Evelyn and I were discussing maybe borrowing some money from my eldest brother, but I feel like that'll end poorly. He's vindictive. I'm a nervous wreck and it's certain that you don't care. I love that..

Frank,

I've had a little bit too much to drink. I went out with Mary and she said I spend too much time with Evelyn. She's  _ pregnant! _ What does she expect? For me to abandon my pregnant wife? I'm not just sitting around, we're getting ready, she's due soon. 3 kids and a show all at once. I think I'm going to end up having a nervous breakdown! 

Beth and you need to see a couple's therapist. Evelyn and I have been discussing that too, but decided against it. Reminder for myself; get you his card.

Frank, 

3 daughters. I'm so happy. I don't know how I'd raise sons! I was never the piinnacle of manhood. I am beyond happy. I can't even sleep because I'm so happy. Evelyn told me to go home but the docs said she won't be able to go home for another two days and I know she hates being alone in the morning. She said Beth treated her well, I still feel bad about not being there for her.

Frank, 

My dad called me to talk today. He mostly wanted to know about the girls, which I told him all about. They're doing well. But halfway through the conversation my Dad changed his tone and asked me:

How's Franklin Shepard doing?

And I said: he's fine.

How's his son?

I forgot for a moment that he's stayed connected to you but I sat: he's great

And he let out a sigh of relief and said: That kid makes me so nervous. 

And then he laughed and got quiet and said: And how are you?

And I knew what that sentence means, especially when he uses that slow and precise voice, so I cleared my throat and told him that I was great and that I was still seeing my shrink and that Evelyn and I were happy and I could tell it put him at ease.

My mother tried to talk to me as well, but she's not the most lucid. I told her I had daughters and she got all upset _ we have no daughters! _ Dad said that she can't tell who I am through the phone.

I wonder if when my daughters are my age I'll be like my mother, that's what my brothers think. Evelyn's resting across from me. I told her not to overextend herself, but she is ambitious. 

I didn't tell you last time we spoke, but I'm going to be the one home taking care of the girls. I know you'd get on my case about it, Because it means we won't have time to work as much, but I'm too devoted to them as a Dad to let a baby sitter at them every day so I can write music. This is all I wanted. 

Frank,

Evelyn is back at work today. I told her she still had time and that our savings would last another month but she hates being at home. I don't mind it so much. I got the girls to sleep today and sat on the floor of their room, I was overwhelmed, and it was so quiet there. I daydreamed about you. 

Frank,

Mary stopped by today. I wish you would. She brought some stuff for the girls, a parenting book for Evelyn (Gee, thanks, Mary.) (I love Mary a lot, nonetheless) and a bottle of vodka for me. I don't think I'll ever drink it, but I appreciate the thought. I haven't left the house in 2 weeks, I'm going a little crazy. I need to see my shrink. Not that I don't like taking care of the girls, I've just forgotten what the sun looks like. Evelyn is working overtime to support us. I feel so bad. 

Frank,

OU COULD TELL!! YOU COULD TELL!! COULDN'T YOU? YIU KNEW THST I ENEDED TO SEE YOU AND YOU CAME BY!!! I THINK THST!! YOU KNWW!! I AM SO GOOD. I AM GEEAT.

Frank,

I have never felt worse in my life. I slept in this morning, and Evelyn said it wasn't a big deal because she has the day off and that it's fine if I get some extra sleep but it isn't. The one thing I'm supposed to be responsible for is these kids so that she can have a break and I can't even do that. 

Evelyn says that I need to relax because I'm allowed to take breaks just as much as she is.

Evelyn says I should see my shrink, she's getting a baby sitter for Friday at 12:30 till 4:30 for that. 

I hate when she does that.

I think that I don't like Evelyn much in general, but only sometimes.

Frank, 

Wow! How rare is that. I am  _ still _ not doing well. Whenever I get the girls to sleep I sit and write and I know it's not enough for you. I check on them every thirty minutes when they're quiet. I am so worried that they'll somehow die, like they'll just randomly suffocate. I don't think it works that way but it's keeping me distracted.

Evelyn says I've been sleeping more, she straight up asked me if I was burning myself out as if that's an acceptable thing to ask your husband. Truck question. And I asked her what I'd be burning myself out on and she said the writing and the kids. She thinks I'm  _ weak _ . 

I went to bed as soon as she got home today, since while I'm not "burned out" I am very tired out, and she has friends over. 

They're talking about me.

I can hear them from the other room.

She says I'm in one of my moods.

Good to know we have a term for it now! I wonder if she and you would get along if you would start using that term too. How I dread the day that happens...

Frank,

It was good to see you today, I hope I don't make you unhappy. I feel like I do, I tend to have that impact on people. Mary said this evening that I look like I haven't slept in a month. I've been sleeping pretty well, actually.

My shrink says that I am so stressed because I feel guilty for burdening Evelyn with the girls. He's not wrong. 

I just wish you'd be around more, I think I'd be happier. I'm not necessarily unhappy, just tired.

Frank,

Why do we even try this? Why do we keep going on even when nothing is working? Nothing that happens is entirely fair. We put ourselves in these situations and then act all shocked when they blow. I'm so tired of this habit of mine. 

Frank,

My shrink says it's not entirely inaccurate to call them "my moods". I still think it's too much of an understatement to be a mood. 

I enjoyed going out with you tonight. Though I know you're not pleased with me. Thank you for being understanding of me when I broke down. Usually you aren't. I've never heard you use that tone of voice before. It was so kind. I've been having such a hard time lately for whatever reason and you were for once in your life willing to accept that. I wish you'd be like that more often. Evelyn isn't capable of that tone, only a sharper tone where she demands that we call my psychiatrist or demands that we sit and talk it out. Except I don't want to talk it out because I can't talk about it. I can't. You accept that. 

I don't blame Evelyn. for all I do, whatever is wrong is still a thorn in our sides. I'd be so much better if I could stop being like this and just take care of the kids and write our shows and be good to Evelyn and I's friends. I can really only do one at a time. 

Evelyn is trying her best and whenever I say it like that she does her snorty laugh (which I have grown fond of) and then goes  _ I knew this when I married you. I'd either have to be crazy or madly in love and you know I'm not crazy, right, Charley?  _ And yet I still can't shake the thought from my mind. 

I heard you and Mary and Evelyn talking today when you came to pick up Frankie. I know you thought I had passed out from taking care of all the kids all day but actually, I was half-awake and listening. I hate how you three talk about me like I'm a sick child who won't take his medicine.  _ You can't just let him be like this. You have to do something, Evelyn. _ And then Mary said  _ she's doing the best she can, Frank _ and then what Evelyn said almost made me jump up and break up with her then and there.  _ Frank, you are the only one of us who  _ **_is_ ** _ doing nothing. Frank, the most you do is exploit the shortfall that you think is oh so concerning. I dream of the day that he gains enough self-confidence to put his foot down and kick you out of our lives _ . And I think I fell in love with you again with your reply  _ if it's exploitative to let Charley be who he is, then fine. I've known him longer than you and I know when something is out of its place and this is out of its place, Evelyn.  _ And Mary piped up  _ let's all have a drink and calm down. Charley's fine. _

I think someday you and her might get along

Frank,

Being sick only makes everything worse. I already felt bad enough and to add this on is making everything worse. I'm forced to be cooped up in bed while Evelyn's sister tends to the girls. She acts exactly how you'd expect one of Evelyn's sisters to act. She's been occasionally popping her head in the room every few hours or so to ask if I need anything (Despite my repeated explaining that if I need anything, I am more than able to get it myself) and then when I tell her no and attempt to fall back asleep she returns with something for me or to ask me a question about how Evelyn and I parent. She reminds me of my cousins of my dad's side, and not just because of how white and thin she is, but because she seems to think every single thing Evelyn and I do is wrong. On that note, Evelyn just got home from work and keeps coming in every half an hour and sitting next to me and talking and talking until she inevitably asks if I'm feeling any better which is a rather stupid question since the flu isn't known to get rapidly better in the span of half an hour. 

I do enjoy how she keeps holding my hand. I like when she's gentle.

Frank,

Apparently I was  _ delirious _ this morning, speaking nonsense and the likes. Evelyn stayed home to sit with me. Which makes me nervous enough, because we can't afford it, but I also am begging her to stay away so I don't get her sick. We definitely can't afford that. I tried to get some writing done and it wasn't very good. Evelyn said that's probably to be expected. I have so much energy inside me, but my body is unable to use it. It is hell.

Frank,

Until you have spent an afternoon in the ER, you've yet to experience life. Evelyn's sister said I was  _ extra _ deluded today, which I still don't think is entirely true. But nonetheless, I spent 10 am to 9 pm getting pumped full of fluids while someone next to me screamed in pain. I got very very mad at Evelyn's sister for not being willing to tell me what she did with the girls and apparently I got too mad because they gave me a sedative. Just writing that makes me angry again. I just wanted to know what happened to them. I got home and Evelyn and I sat on the sofa and discussed music and the likes, I like having her so close to me when I'm not my best, she can genuinely be comforting. I wish I loved her. And apparently her sister just left the girls with our downstairs neighbor, Joan, while she was gone. Joan's alright. She's a lesbian and her and Evelyn have written a few articles for a gay magazine together, about women's rights or whatever. In a few days I'll be back to my old self, or so I hope. 

Frank,

A few days was a little bit of an understatement, but it's fine. A week isn't that long, especially since Evelyn was there sitting next to me every evening. I'm not feeling any better than I was prior to this, and I wish deeply that you'd stop by but you won't. But as I clean the house and convince Evelyn's sister she is not needed anymore, I almost feel hopeful. I finished a play today too.

Frank,

I think I'm getting back to normal. 

Evelyn says I am looking better, I think she's right. The girls are the best, I sit in their room and read to them sometimes. I know they're too little for it to matter but I like to think it somehow will matter. I read to them whatever books I can find, and sometimes the stuff I write but not usually.

Frank,

Everything is good again. You know that, but I have to put emphasis on that. Everything is good again. I love writing with you. I wish you wouldn't wear shirts where you roll up the sleeves, having to avert my eyes to your arms is very awkward. I want to just hold your arm close to my body but that would also be very awkward. Sitting next to you and watching you play piano is the most sensual experience, there's nothing like it.

Frank,

And we're back! You make me angry! You make me so angry! It's like you don't realize how crazy this is. It's like you don't realize how crazy any of this is.

Frank,

I went on a very long walk today. Evelyn pissed me off. 8 hours. That was fun. Mary had to come pick me up and you've never seen Mary find something both so hilarious and angering before. She was telling me off for being insane while all the while laughing and laughing at the concept of anyone willingly walking to Woodbridge. Evelyn found it a lot less funny and Mary had to convince her (while we all stood in my kitchen as I tried to find the aspirin for my aching legs) that I wasn't crazy, just impulsive. I'm sure Mary's going to tell you all about it.

Frank,

I'm a nervous wreck. I think you might be too in all honesty. We're just different types of nervous wrecks. Is Getting thrown out of a bar is going to be our weekly meeting? I think we should maybe spend it writing. Mary's finding it real fun. She spent the night on our sofa, says that her roommate's boyfriend is staying over. Mary drives me crazy. Did you know she's in love with you? Everyone else does. I'm starting to think you're just irresistible. That or Mary and I both have low self esteem. Only time will tell. I think you're irresistible and Mary has low self esteem. 

Frank,

Another walk. This time I'm sitting in a park at night (hoping that I'm not dragged out for being a crazy person who is sleeping in a park past the time that you're supposed to be here, whoops) Mary or you or Evelyn don't get to know I'm here when I'm here. I needed space. I wrote some dialogue. I wrote this letter. I'm sleeping against a rock. I don't plan to walk any further tomorrow. I'll jump on an early morning bus and hope I can get somewhere familiar to walk home before Evelyn leaves for work so she doesn't have to leave the girls with Joan. We can't afford that. I don't know why I have become so selfish lately.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title: Restless house husband is secretly sorta a bitch


	13. Giving Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Frank grows more disoriented, Charley and Frank's assistant bring him to Gussie's wonderful party.

Frank stretched out sighed, "You need to stay here. Put the kids on a plane back home and.. stay with me. Forever. I'll divorce Gussie and you and I can.. run away."

"I can't do that." Charley said. "I have to stay in their lives."

"You want to." He said.

Charley shifted and let go of his hand, glancing out the window, "Frank..."

"This is what you want." He said. "I know."

"How about I walk to that cinema and get you a cup of water?" Charley said, opening the door and swinging his leg out,. "It's hot in here and you're probably a bit-" 

"If you leave you're getting left behind."

Charley brought his leg back into the vehicle and closed the door.

"Don't like writing- I mean, walking, anymore?" he raised his voice, "Why won't you just leave me alone? Why'd you even come back? Did you want to see me like this, Gussie?!"

"I'm not Gussie." Charley said.

"You're an  _ asshole _ ." Frank said, "You say you love me but you didn't try to see me ever again. If it was so easy for you, you would've come earlier! Come earlier before any of this happened."

"Frank, be quiet." Charley said.

"I told you everything you wanted to hear and it's still _not_ _enough_." Frank said. "And you tell me everything I want to hear and it's still not enough."

Frank sat his seat back up and began digging through the glove box again, "Why'd you have to talk about it  _ again _ ? Why can't  _ you _ just be quiet?"

"Frank, I'm being quiet."

"Why can't you just write or walk or whatever you do, Charley?" Frank said, "And keep your mouth shut except for when you sing. You knew it would do this to me- where the fuck are my sunglasses?!"

Charley grunted, a bubbling pit of rage was growing inside and Charley was trying not to hit him. Mostly because even all spacey like this, Frank's weight alone could hurt Charley.  _ Or maybe it's the librium.. _

Frank realized his sunglasses were on his shirt and put them on, "Gussie, I hope our driver forgot."

_ Maybe this isn't it. _

"I'm the only person who feels like this." Frank said, "I thought you did too, but you don't... Charley, did you hear that Frankie got into Columbia?"

"Wow." Charley said.

"It's weird that you're still here." Frank said, "I'm probably going to pass out soon."

"Benzos tend to do that." Charley said.

"And then you'll leave me again. Like you did in the studio." Frank said. "Like you did when you married Evelyn."

Charley couldn't leave. Charley couldn't leave. Charley wouldn't leave. The confession itself was good. Good. Good. Good.  _ That's what you wanted.  _

"I hope I fall into a coma." Frank said. "You and Charley gotta be nice to eachother when I'm… it'll be hard, but you gotta do it anyways."

"You're not going to fall into a coma." Charley said.

"Because you won't LET ME!" Frank said, "You never let me do anything." 

Charley nodded, "I sure don't. I've prevented you from doing  _ so many _ things for the month you've let me back into your life again."

"It's been 13 years!" Frank said. "How do you forget that, Gussie! How do you forget that! It's like you forget everything! You have the memory of a goldfish."

"Do I?" Charley said.

"I don't know why I'm so  _ mean _ to you." Frank said, "I love you!"

There was a tap on the window and Charley rolled it down. The car was parked a few spaces away and Maggie stood smiling.

"Hi, Mr. Kringas- Mr. Shepard." She said.

"He downed a handful of benzos-"

"oh, I know." She said, "This is a well established routine. Fashionably late."

Charley nodded, "Okay.."

"Well let's get going before that becomes a little less fashionable." She said.

The three sat in the back of the car. Frank had dozed off, leaning on Charley while the assistant jotted notes down.

"Why would you take this job?" Charley said.

"It pays well." Maggie said, "I've got a couple hundred celebrities numbers if I ever want a play produced. It's a load of fun. Even when he's like this. Sometimes he'll just be nice and quiet on the way to Carnegie's."

"He's like this a lot?!"

"I'm not one to gossip but I think he and the lady aren't getting along the best." She said. "whenever she wants him to play co-host, he comes out here."

Charley frowned, "What a life."

"I'm worried that someday I'll go out here and he'll be dead." She said, "But I have no right to comment. and besides, he's usually got someone with him."

"So he might die but you won't be the first person who sees it?" Charley said.

"My job is to listen to him and do as told, not keep him from doing what I think is wrong." She said, "He's a good boss. He treats me well. But I'm not his friend."

"You don't have to be someone's friend to care about them." Charley said.

"Did he give you some too, sir?" She said, "I had been told you were quite hotheaded."

Charley nodded and she smirked, closing her notebook and putting it back in her purse. 

"What is wrong with you?" Charley said, "How can you let him do this to himself?"

"Because if I stepped in, I'd lose my only source of income. Some of us need jobs." She said, "I have a son I need to feed. I have rent that has to be paid."

Years ago, Charley would've nodded. He knew that he was supposed to understand it and that she was right.  _ You're a father. You know how important children are. _ But he couldn't bring himself to. He shook his head and gritted his teeth.

"How are you going to live with yourself when he overdoses?" Charley said, "I've had friends OD right next to me. It is something you will  _ never _ forget."

"Mr Kringas, I politely request you don't speak to me like this." She said.

Charley was silent for the rest of the ride. Frank was back up again by the time they got to Gussie's, entering through a side door. Frank was leaning on Charley still, which was a lot for Charley to hold. The kids were sitting eating with another group of teenagers across from the door, talking loudly. Maggie pointed them to a staircase leading upstairs. Gussie poked her head out of a doorway and walked over right as Charley got Frank in up the entrance stairs.

"Not again." She said, groaning. 

"I'm starting to get that this is a regular event." Charley said. 

The kids were all turning heads to look, straining to see as Gussie helped get Frank up the top stair as he mumbled something incoherent about her.

"A lot of the guests were interested in connecting with  _ you _ , Kringas." Gussie snarled, pulling a chair up and letting Frank sit down.

"I didn't ask to ride with him, Gus." Charley said. 

Gussie let out a scream, "Everyone, everyone, come quick, my  _ freak of a husband's _ unconscious in the living room again!" 

Charley backed up as Maggie rushed off (presumably to keep anyone some actually coming to take a look) and Gussie did something that he'd never seen before and had presumed wasn't possible for her. Gussie began to weep, stomping her foot on the ground and throwing her hands up in the air.

"I quit!" She said, "I quit trying to be a good host because he won't even let me have that!" She picked up a vase and chucked it, full force, at the ground. 

Pieces of glass, water, and tulips flew everywhere and Charley took another step back, holding onto the railing of the stairs to keep from falling down. The kids, halfway up the case, all gasped when it shattered. 

"Is Uncle Frank okay?" His son said.

"Go back downstairs." Charley said. " _ Now."  _

Despite Maggie's best attempts, guests were poking their heads out the door to see the commotion. Charley stayed frozen. Gussie got up in Frank's face, pulling off her wedding ring and stuffing it in his shirt pocket.

"Why can't you give me just  _ one thing, you stupid son of a bitch!"  _ She said, turning and walking toward the stairs.

She got to Charley, lifting her hand up above him and looking like she might hit him and then just putting a hand on his shoulder. Tears streaming down her face she gave him a hug, then let go, shoved him aside with enough force that when he slammed into the railing it hurt and went down the stairs.

"Good luck." She said, going out the door.

Maggie had successfully convinced the guests to stay put and was standing frozen by the wall. The kids were back up the stairs again, desperate to see what was happening. Charley steadied himself and took a few steps forward, pulling a chair up next to Frank and just looking at him. He was blank, eyes wide but blank as if he wasn't sure what just happened. 

The kids rushed up after Charley and stayed about a foot away from Frank, huddling up close to each other, a different type of horror in their eyes. One of the girls began to cry and the others hugged her. Charley shook his head and lifted his arms to them, turning away from Frank.

"It's okay." He said, "It's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay."

The medicated calmness was still there, holding back Charley's own urge to scream and throw something. He felt uneasy. Unwell. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

Maggie approached them, "Do you want me to bring them back to their hotel?"

Charley nodded, "Please- and sit with them until I get there, I'll be there as soon as I can- kids, call your mother and tell her that you love her and don't bring this up but tell her about how the trips gone otherwise."

Maggie rounded the kids up and brought them back down the stairs and out of the house. Charley could hear chattering from the other room, and Frank looked up at him and shook his head.

"Gussie, why would you do that?"

"Where do you keep the broom, Frank?" Charley said, "Better get this glass off the floor." 

Frank shook his head, staring out a the corner of the room, "I don't know, I don't live here."

"Okay." Charley said. "Well, sit tight."

Frank nodded, "I think I'm disoriented, Charley."

"A bit." Charley said, standing up and moving aside the larger pieces of glass with his shoes then, unsure of where he'd be able to find a towel, tossing his jacket onto the biggest puddle of water.

He went to the room where he'd heard people talking, closed his eyes and stuck his head in. The noise got louder and he cleared his throat as loud as he could to shut them up. He imagined them as a singular blob of people, instead of many faces with many eyes and shocked expression like they must've been.

"Please leave." He said.

Charley stepped back over to Frank, opening his eyes, and took his seat again, crossing his legs and counting up and down from ten.  _ Stay calm _ .  _ Stay calm. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't abuse benzos, kids. That's Charley Kringas' advice. You will get disoriented, confused, and also ruin your marriage.
> 
> Nerve wracking chapter to write. Letters pt. 2, if you're wondering, will be at a different time. Occasionally, that is done. Whether or not it should be is the real question. 
> 
> Charley, I think it's time to phone a friend.. oh wait.


	14. Eye for an Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley pays Frank back the favor.

The walls of the room had become intimidating. They were bright,  _ blinding _ , white and textured. The texture was subtle, swirly. They formed targets at first, ones that Charley stared at wondering what they were supposed to be targets for. After a while, they shifted from being targets to being big eyes that intercepted eachother. And though he knew they weren't real, they watched him from every direction and he wanted to hide his face.

Frank was silent, as he had been for a while, staring blankly out. His breathing had strengthened. He wasn't dying, Charley liked that. The guests had long since all left and the house was silent. 

Charley wanted to turn the lights off, but wasn't sure where he'd find the switches. And if I he asked Frank he would simply sigh and say  _ this isn't my house _ . The house wasn't  _ that _ big, but whenever Charley'd try to find anything in it he'd get lost. Walking around the house had become a new hobby in itself as Frank sat there so silent. But Charley'd burnt himself out and found himself right back at Frank's side.

"I can call us a cab." Charley said, "Get us back to Paramount."

Frank didn't respond.

_ Why didn't you just leave? You're kids need you. You aren't putting things in order here. You can't fix this.  _

Charley stood up, passing him, and began another round around the house. Passing by all sorts of locked rooms. There was these huge wall of glass that looked out over the deck and the pool, Charley couldn't pass it without either catching his reflection and having to rush by or getting stopped by the grandiosity. 

_ If you leave, what's stopping him from drowning himself? _

What was the point of having such a big house for two people? Did they throw parties every night? Wouldn't it be lonely to just have this big house with two people.. maybe only one.  _ I'd go crazy in a place like this alone. _

He found the phone, in the same space that he could almost remember sitting in while Gussie called Frank. He dialed the only number he could remember when was stressed.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!" Mary said, groggy.

"Mary, I don't know what to do."Charley said, attempting to use his most desperate tone.

_ Silence _ . 

She hung up. Charley slammed the receiver down and covered his mouth to keep from screaming. 

Charley tried to think of how Mary'd respond if she didn't hate his guts.  _ Charley, leave. _ No. She wouldn't say that. She'd be just as confused as him. Charley found his way back to Frank and took a seat next to him. 

"Where do you keep the phonebook? I'll get us a cab." Charley said.

" _ I don't live here." _

Charley grumbled and stood back up, another loop around the house. It became three loops. It became four, eventually up to 15. At 17 he stopped and sat next to Frank again, putting an arm around him to keep him from standing and going to drown himself which Charley'd almost become convinced was inevitable if he didn't stay. and looking at the eyes on the wall again. Frank was so passive. It would be a few more hours before that passed.

Charley must've dozed off because he woke up a bit later, right as the sun was coming up, to Frank trying to get out from under his arm.

"Did Gussie leave?" He said as Charley lifted his arm and reeled away from him.

"She did." Charley said.

"I feel like shit." Frank said.

"How shocking." Charley said, standing up and stretching.

Frank was looking around the room, eyes wide, horrified, "She  _ left? _ "

"Yup." Charley said.

"No.. that doesn't make- she usually tells  _ me _ to leave when she's upset." He said, then he stopped and pulled the wedding ring out of his shirt pocket, "No. No. No, no, no."

"I need to get back to my kids' hotel." Charley said, "I told them I'd be with them last night and I wasn't and we need to go back to-"

"You  _ can't _ leave." Frank said, "Charley, Charley. You can't! If Gussie's out then that means she's really out. Charley, if you leave- you can't leave. You're not Mary. You came back! You can't- you  **_can't_ ** throw everything away because of one bad night, Charley!" He stood up and tried to grab his shoulders, Charley stepped back.

" _ Please _ !" Frank said, " _ Charley, Charley. You can't leave." _

Charley held onto the railing and nodded, "Let me think."

"Please. Don't leave me alone. Don't make be do this again, I can't do it  _ again _ . Definitely not alone, Charley." 

"I don't-"

Frank got close to him, placing his hands on his shoulders. 

"Please don't push me down the stairs." Charley said. 

"Stay with me, please, Charley. Please." He said, "That's all I'm asking."

Charley tried to take a step back, misstepping and having to grab onto the railing to keep from tumbling down. Frank followed him down the stairs he'd tripped over, grabbing his arm and helping him up.

"We have to a chance to- WE HAVE A CHANCE TO FIX EVERYTHING!" Frank cried, "You just have to stay. It's a sign that Gussie left- it's a sign that you're supposed to be here! Its a sign, Charley!"

Charley took a successful step back, bumping into the door. 

Frank let out a scream and sat down, pulling at his hair. He wiped his eyes which didn't help much because he'd  _ just _ started crying. His face was already red, stray hairs getting stuck to his cheeks. Charley slid down the door and sat with his legs out.

" _ Don't _ ." Frank said, "Don't even be here if you're just gonna leave like you always do. You'll only make it worse. When he finds out that you were here, I'll get the beating."

"Who?" Charley said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

If you're gonna be here for me, stay so that I don't get all of it. I'm sure you can take a little bit of it. You're still bigger than I am."

"That is.. very false." Charley said.

"Can't you be good  _ once _ ?" Frank said, "I thought you were supposed to love me." 

"Frank, I do love you- Frank, my kids are-"

"Why'd you even leave me with him? You could've brought me with you! Why didn't you? You knew what he's like- I want to go with you!" He took his watch off and chucked it at the wall next to Charley, "I don't want to be here anymore!"

"We  _ can _ go back to Paramount, Frank." Charley said. "I just need to know what number to call to get a cab."

"He's going to be back really soon." Frank said.

It was then that Charley got exactly what was happening, grabbing onto the doorknob and pulling himself up, "He's not."

Frank shook his head, "I know he is. He's probably pulling up in his car right now. You gotta get out before he finds you."

Charley sat next to him, "I'll be fine."

"I can distract him while you go through the window." Frank said.

"He's not coming." Charley said. "I locked the doors and the windows."

"He knows how to get in." Frank said. "He'll break the windows, he's done it before. That's why we have the boards on the one to my room. you're only gonna make it worse for me- why do you want it to be worse for me?"

"Frank, I promise." Charley said, "I.." Charley glanced around, "I put bear traps around all the windows and doors! I'd love to see him try to get in."

"You and I might be able to get out through the kitchen window. If we throw something at it." Frank said, standing up.

"We'd get glass in our arms." Charley said, following after him down the hall.

"I didn't think of that." Frank said, finding the dining room, which was still dirty and full of plates from the night before, "I know where we can go." 

Frank opened the door to the kitchen and went in. There were no windows in here. He stood there for a while, wiping tears from his eyes and looking around. Calmness had set in. Charley leaned against the doorframe, watching him. 

"I want to go to Charley's." He said, beginning to cry again.

"I'm-  _ Charley's _ right here." Charley said, "Hi, Frank." He stepped forward and hugged him. 

They stood like that for a while until Charley convinced him to take a seat at the table in the other room. Except he didn't sit, he collected the dirty dishes and brought them back into the kitchen, placing them into the double sink and then standing there like he was lost. Charley reached into the cupboard and pulled down a glass, handing it to Frank.

"Would you get me a glass of water?" Charley said.

Frank nodded and turned back to the sink, filling it up with water and then turning back.

"Actually." Charley said, "Why don't you keep that one? I'm not thirsty anymore." 

Frank nodded, "Okay."

Charley almost felt bad for that. It had been a trick he'd learned when calming his children down after fits or fights. Eager to please, unwilling to help themselves.  _ You gotta use what's stopping you to achieve what you need! _ If Frank were entirely there he'd probably find it quite patronizing. __

He and Frank (who was still sipping at the water as they did so) walked around the house together. It was better in the daylight. It was better with Frank. They found the phone again and Frank took a seat and looked out the big window into the manicured yard full of little rocks and a little pond. It was mid morning by then, the sun was almost nice. A mallard floated in the pond, green head sorta sparkling in the light.

"She's not coming back." Frank said.

Charley wasn't sure if he was talking about Gussie or Beth or Mary or his mother or.. whoever else Frank thought left him. The answer was the same either way.

"I don't think she is." Charley said.

Frank nodded, "Yeah.."

Charley paced the room:

  * __I can.__


  * _I always will be able to._


  * _If you use your skills the day will go great._



Charley opened a drawer and dug around until he found a contact book, handing it to Frank, "Who do you think we can call to come sit with you?"

"I don't think anyone will." Frank said.

Charley sighed and walked back to the phone, dialing the other number he had long since memorized. Evelyn didn't pick up.

Before they were married, Charley and Evelyn had gone out with Franto....So Something. It was too long ago to remember. Frank had said.. something too. And then he'd left to go to the restroom or something and Evelyn looked over and said  _ why do you let him talk to you like that? _ That's just Frank. I'm the same to him sometimes.  _ Why don't you tell him off for that? I can if you'd like!  _ No, he's just upset. He's angry that you and I are together.  _ Whatever you say, Charley. _

Charley continued to dig through drawers and cupboards. After pulling the house apart, he found the phonebook. Found the first taxi company he could find, called for a cab and stood with Frank outside.

Frank was silent, frozen, like he'd heard someone died. It was an expensive cab ride back to the hotel.

Dullness and nerves had both faded and Charley just felt bleh. Frank's arm was around his as they got to the room, Charley knocking on the door till one of girls answered and let them in.

"Get all packed up." Charley said, "We're going back home. Uncle Frank's coming with us."

The kids did as told and as they got to the airport, split between two cabs, Charley realized that he'd left all the letters and his typewriter and the draft of the  _ Confession _ and  _ everything _ in Paramount. And he and Frank and the kids had to wait for hours till Charley could get them all tickets on a plane to New York. Frank's silence changed a bit as they waited and his eyes lit up again and he just sat there, next to Charley, watching the kids bicker over whether or not their mother had ever been on a plane (Never with the kids, but she had. Charley just didn't plan to tell them unless they asked)

It was very late when they got back to New York, the kids were sleepy and his son was leaning on Charley sorta dozing when they got to Evelyn's.

"Interesting trip?" Evelyn said as she stepped aside to let the kids in.

Charley nodded, "I'll make it up to them- and pay for their psychiatrists..."

"Do you two need to stay the night?" Evelyn said.

Charley shook his head, "I still have stuff to do- come on, Frank." 

Evelyn closed the door and Frank turned to Charley. He finally spoke.

"Why are we here?" Frank said, "Why didn't you leave me?"

"I know someone who will sit with you." Charley said, "We just had to go pretty far from Paramount."

"What?" Frank said, following him, "I played along, I don't know what-"

They stood outside Mary's door and Charley shot Frank a grin, pat him on the back, and turned to leave.

"Mary always comes through!" He called, "You just gotta force it."

"Where are you going?" Frank said, knocking on the door as he did so.

"Chicago." Charley said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title: The inconsolable rage of Charley Kringas pt. 14
> 
> Alt title: Therapy works best when you attend your appointments. 
> 
> Alt title: I can't believe Gussie is dead
> 
> It's about to get a lot less sad.


	15. Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charley decides to take matters into his own hands.

"I think you should sleep on it." Mars said, "You can stay another night."

"I slept on it last night and I'm not wasting another day to I stir on whether or not I should give him a piece of my mind." Charley said.

Mars had been a lawyer at one point, but since his 50s he'd relegated to sitting inside and writing law textbooks. Charley'd never understood it. Why'd you become a lawyer just to write books about it? He had no wife, not anymore, and his kids were all grown and long since out of his life. That was the tendency for that generation of Kringas kids. 

He paced over across the room and took down a jacket, "No one's going to bail you out when you get arrested for aggravated assault, Charles."

"You have no idea just how much of a stupid son of a bitch this man was." Charley said.

"And that's in the past." Mars said.

"The past keeps coming back!" Charley said. "It stays forever and who it impacts impact others and so on and so on, we are never over anything! People are stuck in the past!"

"It's not your fight to fight, Charles." He said, "It's his own son's." 

"What am I supposed to do then? Just live the rest of my life without any closure?"

"Yes." He said, "Yes, Charles, that is exactly it."

Charley sighed and sat down, "I don't know what  _ else _ to do. What else am I supposed to do?" 

"So your choices are physically assault an old man or lose your sense of purpose?" Mars said, tossing the jacket, "You could go for a walk."

Charley tossed the jacket back and stood up, "That I can do." He turned and went out the door.

Mars was never his favorite brother. Mars still wasn't. He could barely remember growing up with him, and unlike Lorry he never made much of an attempt to ever know who Charley was. He didn't attend Charley's life events, he didn't ask for photos of his kids, he didn't want to know what Charley's shows were about. He was successful, well off, and completely disconnected from Charley.  _ That _ seemed to be the ticket to it. The moment you get rid of Charley, you gained all you could ever want. 

_ Well except for Evelyn... _

_ And Mary… _

_ Probably someone else _ .

Lorry and Danny were somehow relatable. Lorry yelled and screamed at people and  _ almost _ dropped out of college and Danny couldn't keep a wife to stay for longer than a few years. They'd all stuck to Charley's side. And Charley'd despised it most the time. Frank and Mary could never relate to it. Mary was the ignored sibling and Frank was an only child. Evelyn denied to understand it too.  _ Why does it bother you that they care? _ Charley couldn't ever answer that question. It had always made Charley uncomfortable and he'd presume when they called that they were smirking on their end. Charley knew that by all measures of success, he was not the fuck up sibling compared to them. He was only on his first divorce, his kids were smart and capable, and he was well liked. But like Frank, Lorry and Danny were effortless. They were flawed but they were also pushing through. It was natural for them to take a step forward instead of three back for every two.

Mars was different. He'd been great his entire life. Model citizen. He'd served. He'd had 2 kids with a beautiful wife. He was healthy and smart and balanced. 

Charley sorta saw himself in his life now. He saw the empty house and the lack of new photos on the wall. Yet, he couldn't see himself in Mars' eyes at all. Mars was happy, Mars was content with his lack of photos and lack of companionship and lack of friends. He'd put himself in the situation he was in out of sensible choice and stayed there out of sensible choice. It wasn't self destructive.  _ Some people just aren't meant to be surrounded by people _ .  _ You can embrace it or you can wallow in it. _

Charley found himself outside of Mr. Shepard's house. The yard was overgrown. There were boards over a few of the windows. Two cars were parked in the driveway, but one was broken down and rusting. The other was newer, but in need of new tires. Charley pushed past it and reached over the gate to unlock it, opening in and going through the yard. A dog barked in the distance. The air was hot and humid and the rubber band that Charley'd used to tie his hair back was coming loose. 

He got to the door, wiped a bit of sweat off his forehead, and knocked. There was no plan. There was no long speech he had prepared. He'd written so many speeches for the man, waiting for this day. But he'd forgotten them the moment he saw the house. They wouldn't fit well anymore either. He didn't know where he'd go afterwards. Everything, anger and sadness and anything else that he couldn't describe, had faded as he walked. But he'd come this far, there was no way he'd turn back.

"The doors unlocked!" Mr. Shepard called.

Charley felt like a nervous 17 year old again, standing with his arms crossed and waiting for Frank to come out.

He entered in, pushing the door with extra force and knocking over a stack of boxes that was on the other side. Shaking, he tried to stack them back up but couldn't. He kept the door open and entered into the house. Like on the outside, the inside had turned into a state of disrepair. Filthy, stacked with boxes and garbage and clothing that smelled of mildew. He wished he had gloves on. Or maybe a hazmat suit.

Charley found the living room, silent, watching him for a second. He was sitting on a chair, watching the TV. It was up too loud. An ad for a cleaning solution was playing. _ Star's All Purpose gets even the toughest stains out! _

"Mr. Shepard." Charley said.

All color drained from his face and he turned to look at him, mouth agape. Then he reached over the side of his chair, and pulled up a hunting rifle.

"Why are you here?! Are you here to take me back?! Did he send you here?!"

Charley took a step back, "I don't know why I'm here."

"He's still sending you to face his fuckin' battles?" He said, standing up, "22 years later."

Charley'd had many a gun pointed at him but he'd never had the barrel of a hunting rifle pressed up against his chest before. 

"I came by my own accord." Charley said.

"Looking to rub your shit in my face?" He said, "How rich and well off you are? Well guess what, you might be rich and you sure might be happy, but you're not a good person, you and him."

Charley had frozen completely, not even able to blink. In a second, he could be dead. Mr. Shepard had nothing to stop him from shooting.

_ This was a mistake. _

_ You're a crazy person.  _

_ He could kill you. _

_ He might. _

_ You're never gonna get to talk to your kids again. _

_ They're not even going to know where you are. _

_ He'll probably toss your body to the dogs. _

_ What a terrible place to die. _

_ Why am I like this? _

"You can have your theatre and your little draft-dodging buddies, and your perfect little children, but you will never, ever, have integrity like a good person."

"integrity?" Charley said, not looking down at the rifle.

Mr. Shepard didn't respond, lowering the rifle, "I could never shoot you."then he laughed louder than the TV, "You've got people who'd PRESS CHARGES!" 

Charley stepped back, "Thank you."

"Why'd you really come down here?" He said, "Here to beat the shit out of me then leave?"

"I don't know." Charley said, shaking his head.

"I may be old but I've got more strength than it looks." He said, "I could smash all your birdy bones."

"I'd..." Charley stepped back, bumping into the wall "Please, don't do that."

"I only let you in because I thought you were someone else." He raised the rifle again, this time up to Charley's neck.

"You still his dutiful little lackey?" He said, "He definitely did send you, didn't he? What? I got another grandkid that I'll never see?"

Charley shook his head, "No- no."

"What bullshit reason did he send you down here then?!"

Charley's head was up, looking at the ceiling, the metal of the barrel pressed against his neck just below the jaw. It was too dark to see the texture of it.

_ You have to get out. _

_ You have to get out. _

_ I'm going to die here _ .

"Mr. Shepard-"

"Tell me!" 

"Mr. Shepard-"

"TELL ME!"

He screamed out the only thing he could think of, "He's dead! He's dead! Franklin Shepard is dead!"

The half second that shock hit the old man, Charley pulled away and down the hall and out the door. He got to the gate and froze again. He pushed past the gate, and down the driveway, and to the sidewalk and down the street. He stood there for a while, taking his glasses off, wiping the sweat away that was dripping off his brow into them. 

_ What the hell are you doing? _

_ Why would you do that? _

_ Why would I think that that was reasonable? _

_ He could've killed  _ **_me_ ** _. _

**_You_ ** _ could've killed him. _

_ I don't want to die. _

Charley'd walked this path many times, but this time he took a left instead of a right and this time he wasn't laughing at something Frank said, or enraged, or in tears. He was just Charley and he was doing pretty good.

He got to Mars' house and then stopped, turned from the door and went back down the steps and walked back to the sidewalk. He knew how to get to O'Hare from here. He also knew how to hitchhike to New York from here. He'd decide on the way. He found a store, stopped in and bought a notebook and a few pens, and kept walking. The world became a path, people he passed weren't there. It was just for Charley to get where he needed to be.  _ Where do you need to be, Charley? _ He didn't go to O'Hare. That wasn't where he needed to be. He walked along a highway until his feet hurt too much and cars were few and far between. 

And As he sat by the side of the road waiting for a car to pass, he opened the notebook up, balancing it on his knee, and wrote in messy handwriting:

"Frank,

It's been a few years since I last wrote one of these, hasn't it?"

He closed the notebook and put the pen back in his jacket and watched out over the road, unable to hold back a grin.

_ For now? That's good. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is really a cleaned up version of an /800/ page fic I wrote earlier about a similar situation. It was mostly from Frank's POV, and followed him returning to New York after Gussie dumps him. In that though, Charley goes to rub one of his and Frank's accomplishments in Mr. Shepard's face and gets beat up (and swings a few good chairs at the bastard too) Then he goes to the other side of town does his 2nd TV interview with Frank. Different type of embarrassing.. 
> 
> That will never be posted because it's bad and also the same size as a large novel which is just cursed in general.  
> This one should be done soon and it'll probably get some sequels! Mostly Because there's a lot of paths that could be treaded. And because I'd like Charley, Mary, and Frank to finally find a way to be happy and stable and like.. good :)


	16. Letters Pt. 2

Frank,

I think this is a natural end. I went on a very long walk today and when I got home, Evelyn shooed the kids away and tried to talk to me. They're going to remember this, they're both old enough. They were all so excited to see their father on TV.

I didn't want to talk. I locked myself into my writing room to write. I am writing to you. And now you definitely won't see it. You won't see any of it. You never did and you never will. Evelyn's in the other room calling you and I know you won't answer or if you do, you'll hang up. 

I stayed with you for longer than I ever should've, and if you'd just let me I'd still be there. I wish I was there, right next to you. I felt very sad today as I took a walk, Mary's probably gonna leave too. Good riddance, I say, she's falling off the track just as much as you are. If she doesn't want me in her just like you don't, so be it. So be all of it.

I say that this is a natural end, but it's still an abrupt end. A natural end to you and I and probably just me.

You were the north star in my life. I can survive where I am, with Evelyn and the kids and Mary, but you showed me where to go. You always knew the right place to go from where you were. But now you're gone and I'm stuck on a rough ocean with no land for miles. 

How funny is that? That shitty metaphor? Writing was never my skill. I just kept doing it because you told me I could. I'm so desperate for that. Where's that now? Do I keep writing (this, and in general?) Or do I open that window and toss out my typewriter and get a job. That sounds like the right solution. But, as is typical for me, I will not choose the right solution. 

Evelyn thought I wasn't going to come home tonight. Which was fair, considering my history. But what she doesn't realize is that I no longer have anything to run from. I don't need to stir on this event because you're out of my life. Why should I ruminate on it if I apparently will never change your mind.

I like my life too, Frank. My life is easy. My life is like cutting through butter. But me? I am  _ frozen _ solid. An ice block in the freezer. Nothing will ever get through me. Any hesitation the knife feels is because of me and only me.

How many times did I have to beg you to just let me say no. No interviews, Frank,  _ please _ . You know it makes me uncomfortable! Bit no no no, it  _ helps us in the long run _ . Isn't a little bit of discomfort and anxiety good for you?

I am always uncomfortable (which is admittedly, my own fault)

I am always anxious (Which is less so)

I can recall the many times I stepped forward to help you. The amount of times you hurt me or embarrassed me in front of strangers or were downright unkind to me is off the charts. And yet, you're right, what I did was Infinitely worse. Like it usually is. I don't seem to know it in the moment, but everything I do is just a step further than anyone else's. 

You have that all figured out, how to keep it in control and just enough to be reasonable when people who care are watching. This implication is the only thing that can make me cry, because I care. I do. I wouldn't be writing this if i didn't care. 

I know that I have to keep going. I know that I'm in too deep to just stop. I have too many plays left to write to stop. I have 4 kids. I can't just drop out now. 

That's something you'd say without realizing the implications.

If you're only continuing for the things that you helped create, should you even continue? Do they need you that much? Should they? Or would they be better finished by someone else? Does it even matter? 

I don't know what else to do but at the same time, I have so many options. So many places to take this. If it weren't for Evelyn, I'd probably be long gone. She's the only person who can force me to stay with just a look.  _ I cannot stand it _ . I hate her for it. She's well aware that she can do it too. She knows what words she has to use to throw me down. Her eyes are clear and exact. She knows me better than anyone. It's invasive and uncomfortable, how well she's figured me out. It's scary. She scares me.

I'm frightened. I am lost and frightened.. and yet, I'm still sitting at my desk, completely calm. I know where I am, I know I'm safe. It's where I'm going to go that's got me lost and scared and what's going to happen between Evelyn and I.

What happens when I inevitably drain her of all her good will? How long till the lack of fulfillment and satisfaction leaves a permanent impact on her? On me? 

How unfair is it that I'm doing this to her? I keep pulling it along. Like snow rolling down a hill, I collect more and more and more and it's too big to be stopped now. I wish I were like you and that my marriage didn't mean anything to me. I wish I could become overcome with desire without being swamped with guilt. This marriage means nothing but it also means everything to me. I don't know what to do. I ruined our relationship on a burst of emotion. I'll probably ruin Evelyn's (honestly irrational) love for me in the same way, if I haven't already.. I don't know why she's still here. There's no way she doesn't know. There's no way she doesn't understand why I am the way I am. I'm in mourning of our relationship, Frank. I'm in mourning of my ability to play along with Evelyn. 

Just like I should've berated you in private many many years ago for all the terrible things you did to me, I should break up with Evelyn right now before the snowball can get any bigger. 

But I won't. Everyone knows that I won't. I just want to confide in Mary, but she won't understand. She will be angry about a whole list of things. Not to say that she shouldn't be angry. Not to say that she isn't an accomplice in this. Not to say that I should break her heart by telling her about you and I. 

You've already found a couple thousand ways to break Mary's heart and mine too. And even though she'll probably follow you to the ends of the Earth before sticking by my side, I still feel for her. And even if she stays, I'm going to miss her more than I miss you. 

It's not that I don't want to be alone, it's that I can't be alone. Without anyone to ask whether or not I'm on the right path, I will take whatever path is most apparent. I'd be taking that path right now if Evelyn weren't right outside the door.

Franklin Shepard, I love you. I still do. I always have. 

Thanks for your anti-answer to that by the way. It was an interesting expression of it. I don't think it was a no, though. It definitely wasn't a yes. It was a "I don't even want to have to think about it"

Thanks Frank.

My jaw still hurts. I need to get something to ice it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My name is Charley Kringas, I'm 40 years old, I'm a divorced father of four, and I'd rather have a few deeply unhappy relationships that last forever than be alone for 15 goddamn seconds.


	17. Epilogue

This didn't make much sense. Frank Shepard was sitting, disheveled and uncomfortable, in her apartment. Mary had promised to never talk to him again. She'd promised to find better friends. But as it always seemed to be, she could never escape her two friends. She could never escape Frank's pitiful little frown and Charley's desperate attempts to fix everything. 

"So he just.. left you here?" Mary said. 

"Said he's going to Chicago." Frank said. "I only came to New York with him because I don't think I can be alone."

"Motherfucker." Mary said, "Is he trying to make you fix our friendship or has he just finally gone loopy?"

Frank shook his head, "I don't know."

Mary leaned against the wall, pulling a jacket over her nightwear, "You wanna go look through his stuff? I have his spare key."

"Sure." Frank said, standing up, "Are we.. friends again?"

"No." Mary said, "But if Charley's of the opinion that you're not so bad, I think we have a chance to be friends."

Frank nodded, "Start over?"

Mary laughed, "Perfect."

Frank stood up and lifted a hand to her, "I'm Franklin Shepard, but you can call me Frank."

Mary shook his hand, "I'm Mary Flynn."

"Hmm that name sounds familiar.. are you a writer?' Frank said.

"No." Mary said, "Never even read a book."

"Makes sense." Frank said.

And so they left the apartment. Mary and Frank together, Charley nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary Flynn finishes this all up!! Like she should!!! Mary Flynn is my wife. Mary Flynn is the best girl. Mary Flynn is a powerful woman. Mary Flynn could kick Frank's ass. We should all stan Mary Flynn (and Evelyn) (and Beth) (and probably Gussie)

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've noticed about Merrily is that while Charley in general is a very strange character, he tends to getting his boundaries stomped on. This leads to Charley either being completely passive or he snaps. This is shown pretty early on in the show, so I'll go as far as to argue that it was probably a pretty core part of his friendship (and probably his other relationships) from the beginning.
> 
> That being said, Charley can be the WORST and taking everything he says without a grain of salt is just a bad idea. I mean in the show he borders constantly on incoherent which is, like, a mood but also not very easy to understand.
> 
> Merrily is a tragedy, and no character ends up unscathed.


End file.
